'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.
William WordsworthBy happy chance we saw A twofold image: on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same!
William WordsworthWe Poets in our youth begin in gladness; But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
William Wordsworth