Still More Labyrinthine Buds The Rose.

And Let Them Pass, As They Will Too Soon, With The Bean-flowers' Boon, And The Blackbird's Tune, And May, And June!

What's Come To Perfection Perishes. Things Learned On Earth We Shall Practice In Heaven; Works Done Least Rapidly Art Most Cherishes.

Let's Contend No More, Love, Strive Nor Weep: All Be As Before Love, - Only Sleep.

All Service Ranks The Same With God,- With God, Whose Puppets, Best And Worst, Are We: There Is No Last Nor First.

The Body Sprang At Once To The Height, And Stayed; But The Soul,-no!