There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good shall be good, with for evil so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.

That great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it.

Truth is truth howe'er it strike.

My care is for myself; Myself am whole and sole reality.

Fair or foul the lot apportioned life on earth, we bear alike.

If you can sit at set of sun And count the deeds that you have done And counting find oneself-denying act, one word That eased the heart of him that heard. One glance most kind, Which fell like sunshine where he went, Then you may count that day well spent.

Earth is crammed with heavens.