From the summit of power men no longer turn their eyes upward, but begin to look about them. Aspiration sees only one side of every question; possess… - James Russell Lowell

By the light of burning martyrs, Christ, thy bleeding feet we track
Toiling up new Calv'ries ever with the cross that turns not back
New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth
We must upward still and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth

The soil out of which such men as he are made is good to be born on, good to live on, good to die for and to be buried in.

AND what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays;
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;