All progress is through faith and hope in something. The measure of a poet is in the largeness of thought which he can apply to any subject, however trifling. -Lafcadio Hearn-
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the lonely midnight hours, Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows ye not, ye Heavenly Powers!
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