Which kills the soul: love betters what is best
Even here below, but more in heaven above.
Wordsworth, from Michael Angelo.
O Love! thy essence is thy purity!
Breathe one unhallowed breath upon thy flame,
And it is gone for ever, and but leaves
A sullied vase—its pure light lost in shame.
Miss Landon.
Love Thee! Oh, clad in human lowliness,—
In whom each heart its mortal kindred knows,—