When nations grow old the Arts grow cold And commerce settles on every tree
A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state.
In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors.
This life's dim windows of the soul Distorts the heavens from pole to pole And leads you to believe a lie When you see with, not through, the eye.
A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage.
How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summer's pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide!