Take away love and our earth is a tomb.
It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.
Grow old along with me--the best is yet to be,
My sun sets to rise again.
Open my heart and you will seeGraved inside of it, Italy.
The sea heaves up, hangs loaded o'er the land, Breaks there, and buries its tumultuous strength.
T'were too absurd to slight for the hereafter the day's delight!
Make us happy and you make us good.
Man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for?
Love is the energy of life.
I count life just a stuff to try the soul's strength on.
Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beast's God is, they are, Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.