How is it that you live, and what is it you do?
And through the heat of conflict keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw.
Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.
On a fair prospect some have looked, And felt, as I have heard them say, As if the moving time had been A thing as steadfast as the scene On which they gazed themselves away.
Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?
Faith is a passionate intuition.