So, it is, my dear:
all such things touch secret strings
for heavy hearts to hear.
So it is, my dear.
from “Even So” by Dante Rossetti
Oh! All things are long passed away and far.
A light is shining but the distant star
From which it still comes to me has been dead
A thousand years … In the dim phantom boat
That glided past some ghastly thing was said.
A clock just struck within some house remote.
Which house?—I long to still my beating heart.
Beneath the sky’s vast dome I long to pray …
Of all the stars there must be far away
A single star which still exists apart.
And I believe that I should know the one
Which has alone endured and which alone
Like a white City that all space commands
At the ray’s end in the high heaven stands.
“Lament” by Rainer Maria Rilke
Mannerly-hearted! more than handsome face—
Beauty’s bearing or muse of mounting vein,
All, in this case, bathed in high hallowing grace . . .
by gerard manley hopkins; The Handsome Heart
Truly this life is precious to the root,
And good the feel of grass beneath the foot;
To lie in buttercups and clover-bloom,
Tenants in common with the bees,
And watch the white clouds drift through gulfs of trees,
Is better than long waiting in the tomb;
Only once more to feel the coming spring
As the birds feel it, when it bids them sing,
Only once more to see the moon…
From Heartsease and Rue,
James Russell Lowell