—Oliver Wendell Holmes.
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Love took up the glass of Time, and turned it in his glowing hands;
Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands.
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might;
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
—Alfred Tennyson.
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For, lo! in hidden deep accord
The servant may be like his Lord.