Whom neither shape of danger can dismay, Nor thought of tender happiness betray. - William Wordsworth

Feeling comes in aid
Of feeling, and diversity of strength
Attends us, if but once we have been strong.

Splendour in the Grass
What though the radiance
which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind. —

To begin, begin.