Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths; Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts, So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.
O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
The world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been.
Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.
And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.
The quiet sense of something lost
My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.
Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.
Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.
Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
The voice of the dead was a living voice to me.
And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two.
He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
No rock so hard but that a little wave may beat admission in a thousand years.
The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.
The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
The many fail: the one succeeds.
Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.
And on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old.
All things human change.
If Nature put not forth her power About the opening of the flower, Who is it that could live an hour?
He that shuts love out, in turn shall be Shut out from love, and on her threshold lie, Howling in outer darkness.
I sometimes find it half a sin, To put to words the grief i feel, For words like nature,half reveal, and half conceal the soul within.
As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.
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