Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.
I have seen thee as the half-awakened child sees his mother in the dusk of the dawn and then smiles and sleeps again.
I shall die again and again to know that life is inexhaustible.
While I was passing with the crowd in the road I saw thy smile from the balcony and I sang and forgot all noise.
Love is life in its fulness like the cup with its wine.
They light their own lamps and sing their own words in their temples. But the birds sing thy name in thine own morning light, -- for thy name is joy.
Lead me in the centre of thy silence to fill my heart with songs.
Let them live who choose in their own hissing world of fireworks. My heart longs for thy stars, my God.
Love’s pain sang round my life like the unplumbed sea, and love’s joy shau like birds in its flowering groves.
Put out the lamp when thou wishest.
I shall know thy darkness and shall love it.
When I stand before thee at the days end thou shall see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.
Some day I shall sing to thee in the sunrise of some other world, “I have seen thee before in the light of the earth, in the love of man.”
Clouds come floating into my life from other days no longer to shed rain or usher storm but to give colour to my sunset sky.
Truth raises against itself the storm that scatters its seeds broadcast.
The storm of the last night has crowned this morning with golden peace.
Truth seems to come with its final word; and the final word gives birth to its next.
Blessed is he whose fame does not outshine his truth.