Not to understand a treasure’s worth till time has stole away the slighted good, is cause of half the poverty we feel, and makes the world the wilderness it is.

Farewell, my sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.

Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been— A sound which makes us linger;—yet—farewell!

Farewell! For in that word—that fatal word—howe’er We promise—hope—believe—there breathes despair.

Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.