O world, as God has made it! All is beauty.
They are perfect; how else?-they shall never change: We are faulty; why not?-we have time in store.
Imperfection means perfection hid.
What's come to perfection perishes. Things learned on earth we shall practice in heaven; Works done least rapidly Art most cherishes.
All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.
Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!