I hate this imprisonment of weakness; I hate this physical faintness. If
only the strength of my childhood would return. If only, if only... Oh,
what am I thinking? Things will ne’er be as they were, for my body is
frail now, though a youth still am I. Such is my lot in life, and ’tis a
cross that I must bear. Would I ’twere another, yet still must I
journey on, for though this be my lot, my calling is before me. By the
grace of God I will do that which I am called to do.