Every mortal loss is an immortal gain.

Poetry, Painting & Music, the three Powers in man of conversing with Paradise, which the flood did not sweep away.

The cistern contains: The fountain overflows.

To the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.

But to go to school in a summer morn, O! It drives all joy away; Under a cruel eye outworn, The little ones spend the day In sighing and dismay.

Excessive sorrow laughs. Excessive joy weeps.

I asked a thief to steal me a peach: He turned up his eyes. I asked a lithe lady to lie her down: Holy and meek, she cries. As soon as I went An angel came. He winked at the thief And smiled at the dame- And without one word spoke Had a peach from the tree, And 'twixt earnest and joke Enjoyed the lady.