And from the midst of cheerless gloom I passed to bright unclouded day.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
I lingered round them, under the benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.
I see heaven's glories shine and faith shines equal.
Any relic of the dead is precious, if they were valued living.
A person who has not done one half his day's work by ten o clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.