Is This The Destiny Of

The Flowers Of Life Are But Illusions. How Many Fade Away And Leave No Trace.

Stood I, O Nature! Man Alone In Thee, Then Were It Worth One's While A Man To Be.

An Absent Friend Gives Us Friendly Company When We Are Well Assured Of His Happiness.

That We Understand Something Perfectly, That We Accomplish Something Better Than Anyone Else Around Us, That Is What Matters.

I Nothing Had, And Yet Enough For Youth--joy In Illusion, Ardent Thirst For Truth. Give Unrestrained, The Old Emotion, The Bliss That Touched The Verge Of Pain, The Strength Of Hate, Love's Deep Devotion,--o, Give Me Back My Youth Again!