Work up imagination to the state of vision.
You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough.
I cry, Love! Love! Love! happy happy Love! free as the mountain wind!
Sweet babe, in thy face Soft desires I can trace, Secret joys and secret smiles, Little pretty infant wiles.
For Mercy has a human heart Pity, a human face: And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.
If you trap the moment before it's ripe, The tears of repentence you'll certainly wipe; But if once you let the ripe moment go You can never wipe off the tears of woe.