Truth is within ourselves.
The curious crime, the fine Felicity and flower of wickedness.
Any nose may ravage with impunity a rose.
A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: See all, nor be afraid!
The candid incline to surmise of late that the Christian faith proves false.
Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you; Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbeloving; Unless you can die when the dream is past- Oh, never call it loving!