Any relations in a social order will endure, if there is infused into them some of that spirit of human sympathy which qualifies life for immortality.
When steam first began to pump and wheels go round at so many revolutions per minute, what are called business habits were intended to make the life of man run in harmony with the steam engine, and his movement rival the train in punctuality.
We loved in infinite spaces, forgetting here The breasts that were lit with life and the lips so near; Till the wizard willows waved in the wind and drew Me away from the fulness of love and down to you.
Image of beauty, when I gaze on thee, Trembling I waken to a mystery, How through one door we go to life or death By spirit kindled or the sensual breath.
The life which passes mourns its wasted hour. And, ah, to think how thin the veil that lies Between the pain of hell and paradise!
He has built his monument With the winds of time at strife, Who could have before he went Written in the book of life. To the stars from which he came Empty handed he goes home; He who might have wrought in flame Only traced upon the foam.
When he wakes, the dreamy-hearted, He will know not whence he came, And the light from which he parted Be the seraph's sword of flame, And behind it hosts supernal Guarding the lost paradise, And the tree of life eternal From the weeping human eyes.
Their dream had left me numb and cold, But yet my spirit rose in pride, Refashioning in burnished gold The images of those who died, Or were shut in the penal cell. Here's to you, Pearse, your dream not mine, But yet the thought, for this you fell, Has turned life's water into wine.
Life cannot utter words more great Than life may meet by sacrifice, High words were equaled by high fate, You paid the price. You paid the price.
Late, late, I come to you, now death discloses Love that in life was not to be our part: On your low lying mound between the roses, Sadly I cast my heart.
It was the wise all-seeing soul Who counselled neither war nor peace: 'Only be thou thyself that goal In which the wars of time shall cease.
Only in the self we grope To the misty end of time: Truth has put an end to hope. What of all the heart to love? Sadder than for will or soul, No light lured it on above; Love has found itself the whole.
Age is no more near than youth To the sceptre and the crown. Vain the wisdom, vain the truth; Do not lay thy rapture down.
We are tired who follow after Phantasy and truth that flies: You with only look and laughter Stain our hearts with richest dyes.
I have wept a million tears: Pure and proud one, where are thine, What the gain though all thy years In unbroken beauty shine? All your beauty cannot win Truth we learn in pain and sighs: You can never enter in To the circle of the wise.