The Temples Perish, But The God Still

I Cannot Love As I Have Loved, And Yet I Know Not Why; It Is The One Great Woe Of Life To Feel All Feeling Die.

Blest Is He Whose Heart Is The Home Of The Great Dead And Their Great Thoughts.

Dear Lord, Our God And Saviour! For Thy Gifts The World Were Poor In Thanks, Though Every Soul Were To Do Nought But Breathe Them, Every Blade Of Grass, And Every Atomie Of Earth To Utter It Like Dew.

Simplicity Is Natures First Step, And The Last Of Art.

England! My Country, Great And Free! Heart Of The World, I Leap To Thee!