The song that nerves a nation's heart is in itself a deed.

That man's the best cosmopolite Who loves his native country best.

Attain the unattainable.

As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid.

As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.

I wind about, and in and out, - With here a blossom sailing, - And here and there a lusty trout, - And here and there a grayling.

Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly, Down to towered Camelot.