In judgement be ye not too confident, Even as a man who will appraise his corn When standing in a field, ere it is ripe.

In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.

Give unto us this day the daily manna Without which, in this desert where we dwell, He must go backward who would most advance.

I, answering in the end, began: 'Alas, how many yearning thoughts, what great desire, have lead them through such sorrow to their fate?

Nature is the art of God.

Everywhere is here and every when is now.

O conscience, upright and stainless, how bitter a sting to thee is a little fault!