Nothing but a speck we seem In the waste of waters round, Floating, floating like a dream, - Outward bound.
Attribution disputed; shown as originally published.
Nothing but a speck we seem In the waste of waters round, Floating, floating like a dream, - Outward bound.
Attribution disputed; shown as originally published.
Interpretation may be overly poetic.
Forgotten? No, we never do forget: We let the years go; wash them clean with tears, Leave them to bleach out in the open day, Or lock them careful by, like dea…
Mine to the core of the heart, my beauty! Mine, all mine, and for love, not duty: Love given willingly, full and free, Love for love's sake - as mine to thee. …
Lo! all life this truth declares, Laborare est orare; And the whole earth rings with prayers.
We are now synergetically forced to conclude that all phenomena are metaphysical; wherefore, as many have long suspected - like it or not - 'life is but a drea…
There is one living spirit, prevalent over this world ... which assumes a multitude of forms according to subordinate laws. There is one thinking sensible prin…
Just as language has no longer anything in common with the thing it names, so the movements of most of the people who live in cities have lost their connexion …