Let us not go hurrying about and collecting honey, bee-like buzzing here and there for a knowledge of what is not to be arrived at, but let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive, budding patiently under the eye of Apollo, and taking hints from every noble insect that favours us with a visit - sap will be given us for meat and dew for drink.

I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else.

I will clamber through the clouds and exist.

The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children.

And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.

So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries, She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.

Load every rift with ore.