All things bright and beautiful

O, lonely tomb in Moab's land, O, dark Bethpeor's hill, Speak to these curious hearts of ours, And teach them to be still! God hath His mysteries of grace — Ways that we cannot tell;

By Nebo’s lonely mountain, On this side Jordan’s wave, In a vale in the land of Moab, There lies a lonely grave.

This was the truest warrior That ever buckled sword; This the most gifted poet That ever breathed a word; And never earth’s philosopher Traced with his golden pen

He gave us eyes to see them, And lips that we might tell How great is God Almighty, Who has made all things well.

Hamlet most brings home to us at once the sense of the soul's infinity, and the sense of the doom which not only circumscribes that infinity but appears to be its offspring.

You cannot dictate to any man what shall be his morality or his own religion. He must make his own choice. Your attempts to impose total sexual abstinence on him he regards as a meddlesome and impertinent interference with the expression …