Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina
Quando fiam ceu chelidon—O swallow swallow
Le Prince d’Aquitaine à la tour abolie
These fragments I have shored against my ruins
Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo’s mad againe.
Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata.

      Shantih     shantih     shantih

Μῦθος ὁ τῶν τεττίγων καὶ τῶν μυρμήκων προτρεπόμενος τοὺς νέους εἰς πόνους
Everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen.
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
Of these fragments I have made a foundation
What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?
Faith. Hope. Love.

     And the greatest of these is love