As the different streams Having sources in different places All mingle their water in the sea, so, O Love, Thy different paths which people take, Through various tendencies, Various though they appear Crooked or straight, All eventually lead to Thee.
When from our better selves we have too long Been parted by the hurrying world, and droop, Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, How gracious, how benign, is Solitude.
