God! Thou art love! I build my faith on that.
Mothers, wives and maids, These be the tools with which priests manage men.
If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing God invents.
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.
Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.
Where the heart lies, let the brain lie also.