Nor where the music, when the harp is hushed,
Nor where the memory, which is clean forgot.
W. C. Smith (Borland Hall).
Goethe says somewhere there is something in every man for which, if we only knew it, we would hate him. I would prefer to say that there is something in every man for which, if we only knew it, we would love him.
R. Hodgson (Letter).
For us no shadow on life’s solemn dial
Goes back to give us peace;