The true ideal is not opposed to the real but lies in it; and blessed are the eyes that find it.

What visionary tints the year puts on, When falling leaves falter through motionless air Or numbly cling and shiver to be gone! How shimmer the low flats and pastures bare, As with her nectar Hebe Autumn fills The bowl between me and those distant hills, And smiles and shakes abroad her misty, tremulous hair!

There are two kinds of genius. The first and highest may be said to speak out of the eternal to the present, and must compel its age to understand it; the second understands its age, and tells it what it wishes to be told.

Many-sidedness of culture makes our vision clearer and keener in particulars.

Over all life broods Poesy, like the calm blue sky with its motherly, rebuking face. She is the great reformer, and where the love of her is strong and healthy, wickedness and wrong cannot long prevail.

As life runs on, the road grows strange with faces new - and near the end. The milestones into headstones change, Neath every one a friend.

He who keeps his faith only, cannot be discrowned.