Suffering teaches us patience.
Friends are flowers that never fade.
My dreams are the key to my Soul. My imagination is the limit, My heart is the source. The sorry thing is we live in chains, have the key, and don't know it. The fearful passage of their death-marked love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which bit their children's end nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage. The which if you patient ears attend, Ehat here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.