And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear The warble was low, and full and clear.

Trust me not at all, or all in all.

How many a father have I seen, A sober man, among his boys, Whose youth was full of foolish noise.

I do but sing because I must; and pipe but as the linnets sing.

But while I breathe Heaven's air and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.

Bible reading is an education in itself.