In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold

Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.

This truth within thy mind rehearse, That in a boundless universe Is boundless better, boundless worse.

Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.

Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be… And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear; To-morrow'll be the happiest time of all the glad New Year,- Of all the glad New Year, mother, the maddest, merriest day; For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be queen o' the May.

Things seen are mightier than things heard.