Every step forward is made at the cost of mental and physical pain to someone.

The footpath down to the well is healed.

Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me.

The way a crow Shook down on me. The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood. And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

But it is the same with man as with the tree. The more he seeketh to rise into the height and light, the more vigorously do his roots struggle earthward, downward, into the dark and deep - into the evil.

Lovers, forget your love And list to the love of these. She a window flower. And he a winter breeze.