Truth makes on the ocean of nature no one track of light; every eye, looking on, finds its own.
Who knows nothing base, Fears nothing known.
We gain justice, judgment, with years, or else years are in vain.
That's best Which God sends. 'Twas His will: it is mine.
Heaven's slow but sure redress of human ills.
Since we parted yester eve, I do love thee, love, believe, Twelve times dearer, twelve hours longer,- One dream deeper, one night stronger, One sun surer,-thus much more Than I loved thee, love, before.