Nothing in the world is single, All things by a law divine, In one spirit meet and mingle-Why not I with thine?

Fame, power, and gold, are loved for their own sakes - are worshipped with a blind, habitual idolatry.

That sweet sleep which medicines all pain.

Nothing wilts faster than laurels that have been rested upon.

The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument, Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song In sorrow.

See the mountains kiss high Heaven And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea - What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?

The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark--now glittering--now reflecting gloom-- Now lending splendour, where from secret springs The source of human thought its tribute brings.