I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists.

Rejoice that man is hurled, From change to change unceasingly, His soul's wings never furled!

Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.

Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, Or what's a heaven for?

In God's good time, Which does not always fall on Saturday When the world looks for wages.

When I love most, love is disguised. In hate; and when hate is surprised, in love, then I hate most.