WisdomWhen I have ceased to break my wings Against the faultiness of things, And learned that compromises wait Behind each hardly opened gate, When I can look Life in the eyes, Grown calm and very coldly wise, Life will have given me the Truth, And taken in exchange -- my youth.

Child, child, love while you can The voice and the eyes and the soul of a man; Never fear though it break your heart-Out of the wound new joy will start; Only love proudly and gladly and well, Though love be heaven or love be hell.Child, child, love while you may, For life is short as a happy day; Never fear the thing you feel-Only by love is life made real; Love, for the deadly sins are seven, Only through love will you enter heaven.

Now at last I have come to see what life is,Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun,And the brave victories that seem so splendidAre never really won.Even love that I built my spirit's house for,Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest,And music and men's praise and even laughterAre not so good as rest.

It will not change nowAfter so many years;Life has not broken itWith parting or tears;Death will not alter it,It will live on In all my songs for youWhen I am gone.

Never again the music blown as brightlyOff of my heart as foam blown off a wave;Never again the melody that lightly Caressed my grief and healed the wounds it gave.Never again–I hear my dark thoughts clashingSullen and blind as waves that beat a wall–Age that is coming, summer that is going,All I have lost or never found at all.

This is the spot where I will lie When life has had enough of me, These are the grasses that will blow Above me like a living sea.These gay old lilies will not shrink To draw their life from death of mine, And I will give my body's fire To make blue flowers on this vine."O Soul," I said, "have you no tears? Was not the body dear to you?" I heard my soul say carelessly, "The myrtle flowers will grow more blue.

It will not hurt me when I am old,A running tide where moonlight burnedWill not sting me like silver snakes;The years will make me sad and cold,It is the happy heart the breaks.The hearts asks more than life can give,When that is learned, then all is learned;The waves break fold on jewelled fold,But beauty itself is fugitive,It will not hurt me when I am old.

We are two eaglesFlying togetherUnder the heavens,Over the mountains,Stretched on the wind.Sunlight heartens us,Blind snow baffles us,Clouds wheel after usRavelled and thinned.We are like eaglesBut when Death harries us,Human and humbledWhen one of us goes,Let the other follow,Let the flight be ended,Let the fire blacken,Let the book close.

She must be rich who can foregoAn hour so jewelled with delight,She must have teasuries of joyThat she can draw on day and night,She must be very sure of heaven–Or is it only that she feelsHow much more safe it is to lackA thing that time so often steals.