| “Oh . not to guess it at the first . |
| But I did guess it, — that is, I divined, |
| Felt by an instinct how it was; — why else |
| Should I pronounce you free from all that heap |
| Of sins, which had been irredeemable? |
| I felt they were not yours.” |
| Browning. |
| “Nests there are many of this very year, |
| Many the nests are, which the winds shall shake, |
| The rains run through and other birds beat down |
| Yours, O Aspasia! rests against the temple |
| Of heavenly love, and, thence inviolate, |
| It shall not fall this winter, nor the next.” |
| Landor. |
| “Lift up your heart upon the knees of God, |
| Losing yourself, your smallness and your darkness |
| In His great light, who fills and moves the world, |
| Who hath alone the quiet of perfect motion.” |
| Sterling. |
