I have a hoard of treasure in my breast; <br />The grange of memory steams against the door, <br />Full of my bygone lifetime's garnered store - <br />Old pleasures crowned with sorrow for a zest, <br />Old sorrow grown a joy, old penance blest, <br />Chastened remembrance of the sins of yore <br />That, like a new evangel, more and more <br />Supports our halting will toward the best. <br />Ah! what to us the barren after years <br />May bring of joy or sorrow, who can tell? <br />O, knowing not, who cares? It may be well <br />That we shall find old pleasures and old fears, <br />And our remembered childhood seen thro' tears, <br />The best of Heaven and the worst of Hell.<br /><br />Robert Louis Stevenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-iii-4/
