If thou canst but thither, There grows the flower of Peace, The Rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress and thy ease.
Henry VaughanMan hath still either toys or care: But hath no root, nor to one place is tied, but ever restless and irregular, about this earth doth run and ride. He knows he hath a home, but scarce knows where; He says it is so far, that he has quite forgot how to go there.
Henry Vaughan