That's best Which God sends. 'Twas His will: it is mine.
Be it jewel or toy, not the prize gives the joy, but the striving to win the prize.
We are but as the instrument of Heaven.
Alas! must it ever be so? Do we stand in our own light, wherever we go, And fight our own shadows forever?
Heaven's slow but sure redress of human ills.
The man who seeks one thing in life and but one, May hope to achieve it before life is done; But he who seeks all things, wherever he goes, Only reaps from the hopes which around him he sows, A harvest of barren regrets.