Classic Poem

Everything that is born must die;
Everything that can sigh may sing;
Rocks in equal balance, low or high,
Everything.

Honeycomb is weighed against a sting;
Hope and fear take turns to touch the sky;
Height and depth respond alternating.

O my soul, spread wings of love to fly,
Wings of dove that soars on home-bound wing:
Love trusts Love, till Love shall justify