What are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend?

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

By blood a king, in heart a clown.

So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.

That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.

A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.

O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.