I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you.

I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you.

By the golden chain Homer meant nothing else than the sun.

By the golden chain Homer meant nothing else than the sun.

Our life's a flying shadow, God the pole,
The needle pointing to Him is our soul.

Our life's a flying shadow, God the pole,
The needle pointing to Him is our soul.

Even here Thy strong magnetic charms I feel,
And pant and tremble like the amorous steel.
To read more

Even here Thy strong magnetic charms I feel,
And pant and tremble like the amorous steel.
To lower good, and beauties less divine,
Sometimes my erroneous needle does incline;
But yet (so strong the sympathy)
It turns, and points again to Thee.

If it were in my power, I would be wiser; but a newly felt power
carries me off in read more

If it were in my power, I would be wiser; but a newly felt power
carries me off in spite of myself; love leads me one way, my
understanding another.
[Lat., Si possem sanior essem.
Sed trahit invitam nova vis; aliudque Cupido,
Mens aliud.]

Their poison is like the poison of a serpent; they are like the
deaf adder that stoppeth her ear;
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Their poison is like the poison of a serpent; they are like the
deaf adder that stoppeth her ear;
Which will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never
so wisely.

Nor knowest thou what argument
Thy like to thy neighbor's creed has lent,
All are needed by read more

Nor knowest thou what argument
Thy like to thy neighbor's creed has lent,
All are needed by each one;
Nothing is fair or good alone.

Ah, who could have ever foretold that that little retrousse nose
would change the laws of an empire.
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Ah, who could have ever foretold that that little retrousse nose
would change the laws of an empire.
[Fr., Ah, qui jamais autoir pu dire
Que ce petit nez retrousse
Changerait les lois d'un empire.]

O may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made read more

O may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made better by their presence; live
In pulses stirred to generosity,
In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn
For miserable aims that end with self.
In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,
And with their mild persistence urge man's search
To vaster issues.