That man is great, and he alone, Who serves a greatness not his own, For neither praise nor self: Content to know and be unknown: Whole in himself.

There is a pleasure that is born of pain.

Since we parted yester eve, I do love thee, love, believe, Twelve times dearer, twelve hours longer,- One dream deeper, one night stronger, One sun surer,-thus much more Than I loved thee, love, before.

Rest is sweet after strife.

In life there are meetings which seem Like a fate.

We are but as the instrument of Heaven.

Be it jewel or toy, not the prize gives the joy, but the striving to win the prize.