'Tis well averred, A scientific faith's absurd.

There is no truer truth obtainable by Man than comes of music

Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her- Next time, herself!-not the trouble behind her

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

O never star Was lost; here We all aspire to heaven and there is heaven Above us. If I stoop Into a dark tremendous sea of cloud, It is but for a time; I press God's lamp Close to my breast; its splendor soon or late Will pierce the gloom. I shall emerge some day.

Be sure that God Ne'er dooms to waste the strength he deigns impart.

On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.