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.

I do what many dream of, all their lives

And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift, Is quick and transient,- comes, and lo! is gone, While Northern thought is slow and durable.

God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.

What's the earth With all its art, verse, music, worth — Compared with love, found, gained, and kept?

Would you have your songs endure? Build on the human heart.

Needs there groan a world in anguish just to teach us sympathy?