The hours trip rapidly away, hiding their dreams in their skirts.
Music fills the infinite between two souls.
Love is not a mere impulse, it must contain truth, which is law.
Oh, grant me my prayer, that I may never lose the touch of the one in the play of the many.
When I think of ages past That have floated down the stream Of life and love and death, I feel how free it makes us To pass away.
We manage to swallow flesh, only because we do not think of the cruel and sinful thing we do.