That We Devote Ourselves To

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

One May Do Whatever One Likes. In Art, The Only Thing Is, To Make Sure That One Does Like It.

Be Sure That God Ne'er Dooms To Waste The Strength He Deigns Impart.

There Shall Never Be One Lost Good! What Was, Shall Live As Before; The Evil Is Null, Is Nought, Is Silence Implying Sound; What Was Good Shall Be Good, With For Evil So Much Good More; On The Earth The Broken Arcs; In The Heaven, A Perfect Round.

Day! Faster And More Fast. O'er Night's Brim, Day Boils At Last.