"I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to..." — Robert Browning

Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.

But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?

Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.

God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.