Joy may be a miser, But Sorrow’s purse is free. - Richard Henry Stoddard

We have two lives about us,
Two worlds in which we dwell;
Within us, and without us, Alternate Heaven and Hell:
Without, the somber Real,
Within our hearts of hearts, the beautiful Ideal!

I have been sojourning late
Among the pleasant places of my Past,
The green and quiet neighborhoods of Thought,
In which I wandered in my wayward youth;
With no companion but the constant Muse,
Who sought me when I needed her—ah when
Did I not need her, solitary else?

There is no death—the thing that we call death
Is but another, sadder name for life,
Which is itself an insufficient name,
Faint recognition of that unknown Life—
That Power whose shadow is the Universe.