And there is ev'n a happiness That makes the heart afraid!

I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis li…

There's not a string attuned to mirth But has its chord in melancholy.

I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor brought too long …

La maternite comporte une suite de poesies douces ou terribles. Pas une heure qui n'ait ses joies et ses craintes.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up …

The man who has ceased to fear has ceased to care.