And the commencement of atonement is the sense of its necessity.

Till taught by pain, men know not water's worth.

And I would hear yet once before I perish The voice which was my music... Speak to me!

For through the South the custom still commands The gentleman to kiss the lady's hands.

And life 's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim.

I deny nothing, but doubt everything.

For truth is always strange; stranger than fiction.