O never star Was lost; here We all aspire to heaven and there is heaven Above us. If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time; I press God's lamp Close to my breast; its splendor soon or late Will pierce the gloom. I shall emerge some day.
A minute of success pays for years of failure.
God is the perfect poet.
But facts are facts and flinch not.
Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell!
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her- Next time, herself!-not the trouble behind her