Think not because no man sees such things will remain unseen.

There was a little girl And she had a little curl Right in the middle of her forehead When she was good she was very very good When she was bad she was horrid.

Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience He stands waiting, with exactness grinds He all.

I have you fast in my fortress,And will not let you depart,But put you down into the dungeonIn the round-tower of my heart.And there will I keep you forever,Yes, forever and a day,Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,And moulder in dust away.

The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight But they while their companions slept Were toiling upward in the night.

A feeling of sadness and longing that is not akin to pain and resembles sorrow only as the mist resembles the rain.