If Nature built by rule and square, Than man what wiser would she be? What wins us is her careless care, And sweet unpunctuality. - Alfred Austin

Life seems like a haunted wood, where we tremble and crouch and cry.

People living and dead, things past and present, all are contributories to that diminutive stream, oneself; a reflection which is essentially consoling, since it associates one with the sum of things and prevents one from living in barren isolation.

So long as Faith with Freedom reigns
And loyal Hope survives,
And gracious Charity remains
To leaven lowly lives;
While there is one untrodden tract
For Intellect or Will,
And men are free to think and act,
Life is worth living still.