Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.

The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart; one half will flutter here, one there.

For love reflects the thing beloved.

Love will conquer at the last.

I have led her home, my love, my only friend. There is none like her, none, And never yet so warmly ran my blood, And sweetly, on and on Calming itself to the long-wished for end, Full to the banks, close on the prom- ised good.

Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?

The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world.