Thou hast no power nor mayst conceive of mine,
But love I gave thee, with myself to love,
And thou must love me who have died for thee!
Thou hast no power nor mayst conceive of mine,
But love I gave thee, with myself to love,
And thou must love me who have died for thee!
For I say, this is death and the sole death, When a man's loss comes to him from his gain, Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance, And lack of love from love made manifest.
The glory dropped from their youth and love, And both perceived they had dreamed a dream.
Also it pleaseth Setebos to work,
Use all His hands, and exercise much craft,
By no means for the love of what is worked.
Thy love shall hold me fast
Until the little minute's sleep is past
And I wake saved.
Love, we are in God's hand. How strange now, looks the life he makes us lead. So free we seem, so fettered fast we are
All men on whom the Higher Nature has stamped the Love of Truth, should especially concern themselves in laboring for posterity, in order that future generations may be enriched by their efforts, as they themselves were made rich by the efforts of ge
Would I suffer for him that I love?
Alls love, yet alls law.
Again the Cousin's whistle Go, my Love.
Lets contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep All be as before Love, Only sleep.
For life, with all it yields of joy and woe, And hope and fear (believe the aged friend), Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love, How love might be, hath been indeed, and is.
The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard Enough that he heard it once we shall hear it by-and-by.
Love is energy of life.
Love, we are in God's hand.
There's a real love of a lie, Liars find ready-made for lies they make, As hand for glove, or tongue for sugar-plum.
Now, love so ordered for both their sakes,
A feast was held that selfsame night
In the pile which the mighty shadow makes.
Was it love or praise?
Love is best!
My whole life long I learned to love.
How is it under our control
To love or not to love?
And is it not the bitterer to think
That, disengage our hands and thou wilt sink
Although thy love was love in very deed?
All is beauty:
And knowing this, is love, and love is duty.
O lyric Love, half angel and half bird. And all a wonder and a wild desire.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories