Trust me, I have not earned your dear rebuke, I love, as you would have me, God the most; Would lose not Him, but you, must one be lost, Nor with Lot's wife cast back a faithless look. Unready to forego what I forsook; This say I, having counted up the cost, This, tho' I be the feeblest of God's host, The sorriest sheep Christ shepherds with His crook. Yet while I love my God the most, I deem. That I can never love you overmuch; I love Him more, so let me love you too; Yea, as I apprehend it, love is such. I cannot love you if I love not Him. I cannot love Him if I love not you.
Christina G. RossettiAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: December 5, 1830
- Died: December 29, 1894
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Nature constantly begins the same things over again, years, days, hours, spaces too. And numbers run end to end, one after another. This makes something in a way infinite and eternal. It is not that any of this is really infinite and eternal, but these finite entities multiply infinitely. Thus only number, which multiplies them, seems to me to be infinite.
Blaise Pascal