Alas! must it ever be so? Do we stand in our own light, wherever we go, And fight our own shadows forever?
In life there are meetings which seem Like a fate.
Art is Nature made by Man, To Man the interpreter of God.
Heaven's slow but sure redress of human ills.
That's best Which God sends. 'Twas His will: it is mine.
Truth makes on the ocean of nature no one track of light; every eye, looking on, finds its own.