Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.

The thrall in person may be free in soul

The dirty nurse, Experience, in her kind Hath fouled me.

The woods are hush'd, their music is no more; The leaf is dead, the yearning past away; New leaf, new life--the days of frost are o'er; New life, new love, to suit the newer day: New loves are sweet as those that went before: Free love--free field--we love but while we may.

God gives us love! Something to love He lends us; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone: This is the curse of time.

Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of: Wherefore, let they voice, Rise like a fountain for me night and day.

She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room