With Usura With usura hath no man a house of good stone each block cut smooth and well fitting.

And the days are not full enough And the nights are not full enough And life slips by like a field mouse Not shaking the grass

What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee What thou lov’st well is thy true heritage

I would hold the rosy, slender fingers of the dawn for you.

A civilized man is one who will give a serious answer to a serious question. Civilization itself is a certain sane balance of values.

Poetry is a language pared down to its essentials.

All great art is born of the metropolis.