MY PORTION OF THE best in this world will come from your hands: such was your promise. Therefore your light glistens in my tears. I fear to be led by others lest I miss you waiting in some road corner to be my guide. I walk my own wilful way till my very folly tempts you to my door. For I have your promise that my portion of the best in this world will come from your hands.
IN THE ENDLESS paths of the world; among numberless activities, her nature is scattered with all that is unattained in her and incomplete. By the sick-bed around one eager aim she appears as a new vision complete in her being, where all the goodness of all things becomes centred in her, in her touch, in her sleepless anxious eyes.