இப்பக்கம் மெய்ப்பு பார்க்கப்படவில்லை
பேரின்பச் சோலை
4.
5.
Sing of the good, sing of the true; Sing of full victory o'er wrong! Make thou a richer, sweeter song; Out of thy doubting, care and pain weave thou a joyous, glad refrain Out of thy thorns a crown weave thou Of rate rejoicing! Sing thou, now!"
"It is the dark idolatry of self
Which. when our thoughts and actions once are done, Demands that man should weep and bleed and groan."
"Come out of the world - come above it -
Up over its crosses and graves;
Though the green earth is fair and I live it, We must love it as masters, not slaves. Come up where the dust never rises- But only the perfume of flowers - And your life shall be glad with surprises Of beautiful hours."
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