The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet.

The dirty nurse, Experience, in her kind Hath fouled me.

Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.