The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man, And the man said, "Am I your debtor?" And the Lord--"Not yet: but make it as clean as you can, And then I will let you a better.

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.

Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.

Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?

Through the ages one increasing purpose runs.

The greater man the greater courtesy.

And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be!