The world is too much with us; late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.

Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.

But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for humankind, Is happy as a lover.

The very flowers are sacred to the poor.

And he is oft the wisest manWho is not wise at all.

And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.

To character and success, two things, contradictory as they may seem, must go together... humble dependence on God and manly reliance on self.