Look for me in the nurseries of Heaven.
And left the flushed print in a poppy there.
An atheist is a man who believes himself an accident.
The devil doesn't know how to sing, only how to howl.
For we are born in other's pain, and perish in our own.
In attempts to improve your character, know what is in your power and what is beyond it.
All things by immortal power. Near of far, to each other linked are, that thou canst not stir a flower without troubling of a star.
The End Of It
She did not love to love; but hated him
For making her to love, and so her whim
From passion taught misprision to begin;
And all this sin
Was because love to cast out had no skill
Self, which was regent still.
Her own self-will made void her own self's will
Dedication To Coventry Patmore.
Lo, my book thinks to look Time's leaguer down,
Under the banner of your spread renown!
Or if these levies of impuissant rhyme
Fall to the overthrow of assaulting Time,
Yet this one page shall fend oblivious shame,
Armed with your crested and prevailing Name.
Heaven And Hell
'Tis said there were no thought of hell,
Save hell were taught; that there should be
A Heaven for all's self-credible.
Not so the thing appears to me.
'Tis Heaven that lies beyond our sights,
And hell too possible that proves;
For all can feel the God that smites,
But ah, how few the God that loves!