And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.

I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race.

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.

All experience is an arch wherethro' gleams that untraveled world whose margins fade forever and forever as we move.

He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.

Bible reading is an education in itself.

An English homegrey twilight poured On dewy pasture, dewy trees, Softer than sleepall things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.