Truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner's done.
Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beast's; God is, they are, Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.
There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with for evil so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
I know what I want and what I might gain, and yet, how profitless to know.
Of power does Man possess no particle: Of knowledge-just so much as show that still It ends in ignorance on every side.
Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
All service ranks the same with God,- With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first.
Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
Therefore I summon age / To grant youth's heritage.
Are there not, dear Michael, Two points in the adventure of the diver,- One, when a beggar he prepares to plunge; One, when a prince he rises with his pearl? Festus, I plunge.
Make no more giants, God!But elevate the race at once!
Still more labyrinthine buds the rose.
Other heights in other lives, God willing.
A lion may die of an ass's kick.
I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds All the world's loves in its unworldliness.
All the breath and the bloom of the year in the bag of one bee; All the wonder and wealth of the mine in the heart of one gem; In the core of one pearl all the shade and the shine of the sea; Breath and bloom, shade and shine,- wonder, wealth, and-how far above them- Truth, that's brighter than gem, Truth, that's purer than pearl,- Brightest truth, purest trust in the universe- all were for me In the kiss of one girl.
Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais): "Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it 'Italy.'"
All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul!
Where the apple reddens never pry - lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I.
Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.
Earth being so good, would heaven seem best?
My care is for myself; Myself am whole and sole reality.
Imperfection means perfection hid.
This could but have happened once,- And we missed it, lost it forever.
Our aspirations are our responsibilities.
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