Love has no power to look forward — the delicious consciousness of the present, a faint but delightful shadow of the past, form its eternity. - Letitia Elizabeth Landon

It is Rome's secret charm to reconcile
Imagination with our long last sleep.
We are resign'd ourselves, and suffer less
For those we love. The people of the South
Paint closing life in hues less terrible
Than do the gloomy nations of the North :
The sun, like glory, even warms the grave.

It is strange, though true, that the happiest part of our life is the shortest in detail. We dwell on the tempest that wrecked, the flood that overwhelmed — but we pass over in silence the numerous days we have spent in summer and sunshine.

Alas!
We give our destiny from our own hands,
And trust to those most frail of all frail things,
The chances of humanity.