I resolved that, like the sun, as long as my day lasted, I would look on the bright side of everything.

How bless'd the heart that has a friend. A sympathizing ear to lend.

I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky; It was a childish ignorance, But now 't is little joy To know I'm farther off from heaven Than when I was a boy.

Boughs are daily rifled By the gusty thieves, And the book of Nature Getteth short of leaves.

The year's in wane; There is nothing adorning; The night has no eve, And the day has no morning; Cold winter gives warning!

Half of the failures in life come from pulling one's horse when he is leaping.

Experience enables me to depose to the comfort and blessing that literature can prove in seasons of sickness and sorrow.