A beam in darkness: let it grow.

A pasty costly-made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay, Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and injellied.

That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.

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.

Faith is believing what we cannot prove.

I know transplanted human worth will bloom to profit otherwhere.

So I find every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, The field, the chamber, and the street, For all is dark where thou art not