I Know And Love The Good, Yet,

Death Had His Grudge Against Me, And He Got Up In The Way, Like An Armed Robber, With A Pike In His Hand.

Events Appear Sad, Pleasant, Or Painful, Not Because They Are So In Reality, But Because We Believe Them To Be So And The Light In Which We Look At Them Depends Upon Our Own Judgment.

I Know And Love The Good, Yet, Ah! The Worst Pursue.

How Quick The Old Woe Follows A Little Bliss!

And Tears Are Heard Within The Harp I Touch.