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

For this is wisdom- to love and live To take what fate or the Gods may give, To ask no question, to make no prayer, To kiss the lips and caress the hair, Speed passion's ebb as we greet its flow, To have and to hold, and, in time--let go.

No path is wholly rough.

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.

Trust in your own untried capacity.

Dear friend, I pray thee, if thou wouldst be proving Thy strong regard for me, Make me no vows. Lip-service is not loving; Let thy faith speak for thee.

I was as pure as the morning When I first looked on your face; I knew I never could reach you In your high, exalted place.