In the long years liker they must grow; The man be more of woman, she of man.

Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Sweet is every sound, sweeter the voice, but every sound is sweet.

Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.

And down I went to fetch my bride: But, Alice, you were ill at ease; This dress and that by turns you tried, Too fearful that you should not please. I loved you better for your fears, I knew you could not look but well; And dews, that would have fall'n in tears, I kiss'd away before they fell.

With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.