They sin who tell us love can die; With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. Love is indestructible, Its holy flame forever burneth; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth. It soweth here with toil and care, But the harvest-time of love is there.
They sin who tell us Love can die: With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity, In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell.
How beautiful is night! A dewy freshness fills the silent air; No mist obscures; nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven: In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths; Beneath her steady ray The desert circle spreads Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky. How beautiful is night!
It has been more wittily than charitably said that hell is paved with good intentions; they have their place in heaven also.
Love is indestructible, Its holy flame forever burneth; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.
How beautiful is night! A dewy freshness fills the silent air; No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven.
Earth could not hold us both, nor can one heaven Contain my deadliest enemy and me.
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