O passing angel, speed me with a song, a melody of heaven to reach my heart and rouse me to the race and make me strong.

The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear, And Paradise hath room for you and me and all.

The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago

For one man is my world of all the men this wide world holds; O love, my world is you.

Better by far you should forget and smile than that you should remember and be sad.

Heaven is the presence of God.