Happy are all free peoples, too strong to be dispossessed. But blessed are those among nations who dare to be strong for the rest!

The English have a scornful insular way Of calling the French light.

And I smiled to think God's greatness flowed around our incompleteness; Round our restlessness, His rest.

Beloved, let us live so well our work shall still be better for our love, and still our love be sweeter for our work.

So mothers have God's license to be missed.

Men of science, osteologists And surgeons, beat some poets, in respect For nature,-count nought common or unclean, Spend raptures upon perfect specimens Of indurated veins, distorted joints, Or beautiful new cases of curved spine; While we, we are shocked at nature's falling off, We dare to shrink back from her warts and blains.

Experience, like a pale musician, holds a dulcimer of patience in his hand.