He who kisses joy as it flies by will live in eternity's sunrise.

The nakedness of woman is the work of God.

Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!

Ah, sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done; Where the youth pined away with desire And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sunflower wishes to go.

I heard an Angel singing; When the day was springing, Mercy, Pity, Peace; Is the world's release.

Heaven is in a grain of sand.

One Power alone makes a Poet: Imagination. The Divine Vision.