I long for scenes where man has never trod;... There to abide with my Creator, God.

I am gennerally understood tho I do not use that awkward squad of pointings called commas colons semicolons etc.

For Nature is love, and finds haunts for true love, Where nothing can hear or intrude; It hides from the eagle and joins with the dove, In beautiful green solitude.

I found the poems in the fields And only wrote them down

I am the self-consumer of my woes.

Ah, words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away.

Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air; Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.