I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell - Walt Whitman

O soul, thou pleasest me — I thee;
Sailing these seas, or on the hills, or waking in the night,
Thoughts, silent thoughts, of Time, and Space, and Death, like waters flowing,
Bear me, indeed, as through the regions infinite,
Whose air I breathe, whose ripples hear — lave me all over;
Bathe me, O God, in thee — mounting to thee,
I and my soul to range in range of thee.

O Thou transcendent,
Nameless, the fibre and the breath.

from “Passage to India

"From imperfection’s murkiest cloud,
Darts always forth one ray of perfect light,
One flash of Heaven’s glory."

-from "Song of the Universal"

That you are here — that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.