What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up, And be discharged, and straight wound up anew? No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets: May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.

Earth is crammed with heavens.

You never know what life means till you die; even throughout life, tis death that makes life live.

Still more labyrinthine buds the rose.

'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls.

Sing, riding 's a joy! For me I ride.

grow old with me. the best is yet to be. the last of life for which the first was made.