And hold up to the sun my little taper.

For pleasures past I do not grieve, nor perils gathering near; My greatest grief is that I leave nothing that claims a tear.

I came to realize clearly that the mind is no other than the Mountain and the Rivers and the great wide Earth, the Sun and the Moon and the Sky”.

To what gulfs A single deviation from the track Of human duties leads even those who claim The homage of mankind as their born due, And find it, till they forfeit it themselves!

A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded.

I am never long, even in the society of her I love, without yearning for the company of my lamp and my library.

What want these outlaws conquerors should have but history's purchased page to call them great?