Courage, my friend Battus,
To-morrow perhaps will be more favorable;
While there is life there is hope,
The dead alone are without hope.
Jove shines brightly one day,
And the next showers down rain.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
If all the end of this continuous striving
Were simply to attain,
How poor would seem the planning and contriving
The endless urging and the hurried driving
Of body, heart and brain!