All service ranks the same with God,- With God, whose puppets, best and worst, Are we: there is no last nor first.
Needs there groan a world in anguish just to teach us sympathy?
Imperfection means perfection hid.
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.
Tis looking downward makes one dizzy.
I know what I want and what I might gain, and yet, how profitless to know.
My care is for myself; Myself am whole and sole reality.
Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her- Next time, herself!-not the trouble behind her
I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds All the world's loves in its unworldliness.
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.
Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.
Still more labyrinthine buds the rose.
All good things Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul!
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.'"
Where the apple reddens never pry - lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I.
Therefore I summon age / To grant youth's heritage.
Earth being so good, would heaven seem best?
Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.
Of power does Man possess no particle: Of knowledge-just so much as show that still It ends in ignorance on every side.
There's a new tribunal now higher than God's -The educated man's!
Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
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.
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.
A lion may die of an ass's kick.
Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist.
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