Except it quiet bring
Our little garden that we lost
Back to the Lawn again.
So spicy her Carnations nod—
So drunken, reel her Bees—
So silver steal a hundred flutes
From out a hundred trees—
That whoso sees this little flower
By faith may clear behold
The Bobolinks around the throne
And Dandelions gold.
whose sparks are the stars?
82
LET life be beautiful like summer flowers
and death like autumn leaves.
88
HE who wants to do good knocks at the gate;
he who loves
finds the gate open.
84
IN death the many becomes one;
in life the one becomes many.
Religion will be one
when God is dead.
85
THE artist is the lover of Nature,
therefore he is her slave
and her master.
86
‘HOW far are you from me, O Fruit?’
‘I am hidden in your heart, O Flower.’
87
THIS longing is for the one who is felt in the dark,
but not seen in the day.
88
‘YOU are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf,
I am the smaller one on its upper side,
‘ said the dewdrop to the lake.
89
THE scabbard is content to be dull
when it protects the keenness of the sword.
90
IN darkness
the One appears as uniform;
in the light
the One appears as manifold.
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whose sparks are the stars?
82
LET life be beautiful like summer flowers
and death like autumn leaves.
88
HE who wants to do good knocks at the gate;
he who loves
finds the gate open.
84
IN death the many becomes one;
in life the one becomes many.
Religion will be one
when God is dead.
85
THE artist is the lover of Nature,
therefore he is her slave
and her master.
86
‘HOW far are you from me, O Fruit?’
‘I am hidden in your heart, O Flower.’
87
THIS longing is for the one who is felt in the dark,
but not seen in the day.
88
‘YOU are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf,
I am the smaller one on its upper side,
‘ said the dewdrop to the lake.
89
THE scabbard is content to be dull
when it protects the keenness of the sword.
90
IN darkness
the One appears as uniform;
in the light
the One appears as manifold.