Feb 08, 2005 00:39
"That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from
my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass,
glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what
remains behind."
William Wordsworth
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Man is his own star; and the soul that can
Render an honest and a perfect man,
Commands all light, all influence, all fate;
Nothing to him falls early or too late.
Our acts our angels are, or good or ill,
Our fatal shadows that walk by us still.
Cast the bantling on the rocks,
Suckle him with the she-wolf's teat;
Wintered with the hawk and fox,
Power and speed be hands and feet.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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