O, Though Oft Oppressed And

No One Is So Accursed By Fate, No One So Utterly Desolate, But Some Heart Though Unknown Responds Unto His Own.

Ah, Nothing Is Too Late, Till The Tired Heart Shall Cease To Palpitate.

The Love Of Learning, The Sequestered Nooks, And All The Sweet Serenity Of Books.

The Lamps Are Lit, The Fires Burn Bright. The House Is Full Of Life And Light.

I Do Not Love Thee Less For What Is Done, And Cannot Be Undone. Thy Very Weakness Hath Brought Thee Nearer To Me, And Henceforth My Love Will Have A Sense Of Pity In It, Making It Less A Worship Than Before.