People newly emerged from obscurity generally launch out into indiscriminate display.
You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven / That God has hidden your face?
I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.
How gently rock yon poplars high Against the reach of primrose sky With heaven's pale candles stored.
There's no dew left on the daisies and clover; there's no rain left in heaven.
It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.