Live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurled Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curled Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world.

The thrall in person may be free in soul

I do but sing because I must; and pipe but as the linnets sing.

As the husband is, the wife is.

One so small Who knowing nothing knows but to obey.

And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be!

A beam in darkness: let it grow.