To love one maiden only, cleave to her, And worship her by years of noble deeds, Until they won her; for indeed I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and aimable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes man.

The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and god fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world.

Faith is believing what we cannot prove.

More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

Trust me not at all, or all in all.

Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.

The woods decay, the woods decay and fall.