I'd have a clear and competent estate

We bear it calmly, though a ponderous woe, And still adore the hand that gives the blow.

Heaven is not always angry when he strikes, But most chastises those whom most he likes.

Wine whets the wit, improves its native force…

We live and learn, but not the wiser grow.

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.

So All is diff’rent, and yet All is One.