Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.
Grow old with me! The best is yet to be.
God is the perfect poet.
What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.
Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity These are its sign and note and character.
I count life just a stuff to try the soul's strength on.
So, fall asleep love, loved by me... for I know love, I am loved by thee.
It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.
Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so: life's business being just the terrible choice.
Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure.
I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew.
If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing God invents.
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.