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III. The One in the Many.

Flowers are born and die
In the field,
Some sweet, some odourless,
Some made to heal and bless,
And some to slay no less,
But all are heavenly,
And heaven in all revealed.
Worlds are born and die
Throughout space,
Suns and circling spheres,
And comets wild as tears,
That fill the stars with fears,
But all are heavenly,
And run one heavenly race.

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Loves are born and die
In the soul,
Loves innocent and wild;
Pure as a laughing child
Some seem, and some defiled,
But all are heavenly,
And seek one heavenly goal.