Distrust that man who tells you to distrust.

Feast, and your halls are crowded Fast, and the world goes by Succeed and give, and it helps you live But no man can help you die

Laugh, and the world laughs with you: Weep, and you weep alone. For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.

Talk not of the river or lake To those who have looked on the sea.

Moon and Sea You are the moon, dear love, and I the sea: The tide of hope swells high within my breast, And hides the rough dark rocks of life's unrest When your fond eyes smile near in perigee. But when that loving face is turned from me, Low falls the tide, and the grim rocks appear, And earth's dim coast-line seems a thing to fear. You are the moon, dear one, and I the sea.

Distrust that man who tells you to distrust. He takes the measure of his own small soul, and thinks the world no larger.

So many gods, so many creeds, so many paths that wind and wind while just the art of being kind is all the sad world needs.