Come Fairies, take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind and dance upon the mountains like a flame!

An intellectual hatred is the worst, So let her think opinions are accursed. Have I not seen the loveliest woman born Out of the mouth of Plenty's horn, Because of her opinionated mind Barter that horn and every good By quiet natures understood For an old bellows full of angry wind?

All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, The heavy steps of the plowman, splashing the wintry mold, Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.

Myself I must remake.

If there's no hatred in a mind Assault and battery of the wind Can never tear the linnet from the leaf

Evil comes to us men of imagination wearing as its mask all the virtues.

Sometimes my feet are tired and my hands are quiet, but there is no quiet in my heart.