Light tomorrow with today!
You're something between a dream and a miracle.
He who breathes deepest lives most.
Whoever lives true life, will love true love.
Knowledge by suffering entereth, And life is perfected by death.
I would not be a rose upon the wall A queen might stop at, near the palace-door, To say to a courtier, "Pluck that rose for me, It's prettier than the rest." O Romney Leigh! I'd rather far be trodden by his foot, Than lie in a great queen's bosom.
Behold me! I am worthy Of thy loving, for I love thee!
Who can fear Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll- Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year? Say thou dost love me, love me, love me-toll The silver iterance!-only minding, Dear, To love me also in silence, with thy soul.
Unless you can feel when the song is done No other is sweet in its rhythm; Unless you can feel when left by one That all men else go with him.
But I love you, sir: And when a woman says she loves a man, The man must hear her, though he love her not.
For none can express thee, though all should approve thee. I love thee so, Dear, that I only can love thee.
They say that God lives very high! But if you look above the pines You cannot see our God. And why? And if you dig down in the mines You never see Him in the gold, Though from Him all that's glory shines. God is so good, He wears a fold Of heaven and earth across His face - Like secrets kept, for love, untold. But still I feel that His embrace Slides down by thrills, through all things made, Through sight and sound of every place: As if my tender brother laid On my shut lids, her kisses' pressure, Half waking me at night; and said, "Who kissed through the dark, dear guesser?"
The sweetest lives are those to duty wed, Whose deeds, both great and small Are close-knot strands of an unbroken thread There love ennobles all. The world may sound no trumpets, ring no bells The book of life the shining record tells. Thy love shall chant its own beatitudes After its own life-workings. A child's kiss Set on thy sighing lips shall make thee glad; A poor man served by thee shall make thee rich; A sick man helped by thee shall make thee strong; Thou shalt serve thyself by every sense, Of service which thou renderest.
What frightens me is that men are content with what is not life at all.
He lives most life whoever breathes most air.
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