This poem by Robert Louis Stevenson speaks to something in my soul.
If I have faltered more or less
In my great task of happiness:
If have moved among my race
And shown no glorious morning face;
If beams from happy human eyes
Have moved me not; if morning skies,
Books, and my food, and summer raiN
Knocked on my sullen heart in vain,-
Lord, Thy most pointed pleasure take,
And stab my spirit broad awake……..