You call for faith: I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists. The more of doubt, the stronger faith, I say, If faith o’ercomes doubt.
The only fault’s with time; All men become good creatures: but so slow!
Other heights in other lives, God willing.
We find great things are made of little things, And little things go lessening till at last Comes God behind them.
Earth is crammed with heavens.
Truth is truth howe’er it strike.
No thought which ever stirred A human breast should be untold.
Wander at will, Day after day, – Wander away, Wandering still – Soul that canst soar! Body may slumber: Body shall cumber Soul-flight no more.
Sorrow, the heart must bear, Sits in the home of each, conspicuous there. Many a circumstance, at least, Touches the very breast. For those Whom any sent away, – he knows: And in the live man’s stead, Armor and ashes reach The house of each.
Hand Grasps at hand, eye lights eye in good friendship, And great hearts expand And grow one in the sense of this world’s life.
Who knows most, doubts most; entertaining hope means recognizing fear.
Make us happy and you make us good.
Rejoice that man is hurled, From change to change unceasingly, His soul’s wings never furled!
The peerless cup afloat Of the lake-lily is an urn some nymph Swims bearing high above her head.
Mothers, wives and maids, These be the tools with which priests manage men.
The candid incline to surmise of late that the Christian faith proves false.
Mid the sharp, short emerald wheat, scarce risen three fingers well, The wild tulip at the end of its tube, blows out its great red bell, Like a thin clear bubble of blood, for the children to pick and sell.
A pretty woman’s worth some pains to see, Nor is she spoiled, I take it, if a crown Completes the forehead pale and tresses pure.
There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life.
As if true pride Were not also humble!