Sir Walter Scott

Hard toil can roughen form and face,
And want call quench the eye's bright grace.

Hard toil can roughen form and face,
And want call quench the eye's bright grace.

Within that awful volume lies
The mystery of mysteries!
Happiest they of human race,
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Within that awful volume lies
The mystery of mysteries!
Happiest they of human race,
To whom God has granted grace
To read, to fear, to hope, to pray,
To lift the latch, and force the way:
And better had they ne'er been born,
Who read to doubt, or read to scorn.

It [true love] is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, read more

It [true love] is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind
In body and in soul can bind.

'Tis an old tale, and often told;
But did my fate and wish agree,
Ne'er had been read more

'Tis an old tale, and often told;
But did my fate and wish agree,
Ne'er had been read, in story old,
Of maiden true betray'd for gold,
That loved, or was avenged, like me!

Fortune may rob us of our wealth, not of our courage.

Fortune may rob us of our wealth, not of our courage.