The true faith discovered was When painted panel, statuary, Glass-mosaic, window-glass, Amended what was told awry By some peasant gospeler.

We are happy when for everything inside us there is a corresponding something outside us.

...How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face... "When You Are Old And Gray

... Let the cage bird and the cage bird mate and the wild bird mate in the wild.

The night can sweat with terror as before We pieced our thoughts into philosophy, And planned to bring the world under a rule, Who are but weasels fighting in a hole.

I believe... that our memories are part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.

True love is a discipline in which each divines the secret self of the other and refuses to believe in the mere daily self.