Who waits until the wind shall silent keep Will never find the ready hour to sow.
Stain my eyes as I may, on all sides all is black.
There is nothing so skillful in its own defense as imperious pride.
When Time is spent, Eternity begins.
But all lost things are in the angels' keeping, Love; No past is dead for us, but only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth's little pain Make Good Together there we can begin again, In babyhood.
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name?