I can't be anonymous by reason of your confounded photographs. (To Julia Margaret Cameron)

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.

Better not be at all than not be noble.

The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.

Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.

He that shuts love out, in turn shall be Shut out from love, and on her threshold lie, Howling in outer darkness.

Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky.