Hush! Still as death, The tempest holds his breath As from a sudden will; The rain stops short, but from the eaves You see it drop, and hear it from the leaves, All is so bodingly still.

It is only by instigation of the wrongs of men that what are called the Rights of Man become turbulent and dangerous.

Old gold has a civilizing virtue which new gold must grow old to be capable of secreting.

Through aisles of long-drawn centuries my spirit walks in thought.

Things always seem fairer when we look back at them, and it is out of that inaccessible tower of the past that Longing leans and beckons.

And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.

There is no good in arguing with the inevitable. The only argument available with an east wind is to put on your overcoat.