Life and Existence

Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

Because God’s gifts put man’s best dreams to shame.

“Guess now who holds thee?”—“Death,” I said. But there The silver answer rang—“Not Death, but Love.”

Knowledge by suffering entereth, And life is perfected by death.

If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. 1

If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. 1

They reckon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

They reckon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

It is time to be old, To take in sail.

It is time to be old, To take in sail.

Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands.

So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, The youth replies, I can.

“Pass in, pass in,” the angels say, “In to the upper doors, Nor count compartments of the floors, But mount to paradise By the stairway of surprise.”

“Pass in, pass in,” the angels say, “In to the upper doors, Nor count compartments of the floors, But mount to paradise By the stairway of surprise.”

Heartily know, When half-gods go, The gods arrive.

I like a church; I like a cowl; I love a prophet of the soul; And on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains or pensive smiles; Yet not for all his faith can see Would I that cowlèd churchman be.

To rise at six, to dine at ten, To sup at six, to sleep at ten, Makes a man live for ten times ten.

Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; Lead thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home; Lead thou me on! Keep thou my feet: I do not ask to see The distant scene; one step enough for me.

It is thy very energy of thought Which keeps thee from thy God.

It is thy very energy of thought Which keeps thee from thy God.

Time hath a taming hand.

What were we? What was that bitter instant We called life?

What were we? What was that bitter instant We called life?