How name ye that stiff formal man, Who strides with lofty paces? He tracksthe game where'er he can, "He scents the Jesuits' traces."Crane
Ay, if your priest should be an actor too, As not improbably may come topass.
Forbear! When passion sways me, and I seek to frame Fir utterance forfeeling, deep, intense, And for my frenzy finding no fit name, Sweep round theample world with every sense, Grasp at the loftiest words to speak my flame,And call the glow, wherewith I burn, Quenchless, eternal, yea, eterne Is thatof sophistry a devilish play?}
How stoutly once I could inveigh, If a poor maiden went astray; Not wordsenough my tongue could find, 'Gainst others' sin to speak my mind! Black as itseemed, I blacken'd it still more, And strove to make it blacker than before.And did myself securely bless Now my own trespass doth appear! Yet ah! -what urg'd me to transgress, God knows, it was so sweet, so dear!Zwinger
In the currents of life, in action's storm, I float and I wave With billowymotion! Birth and the grave A limitless ocean, A constant weaving Withchange still rife, A restless heaving, A glowing life Thus time's whirring loomunceasing I ply, And weave the life - garment of deity.Faust