Land of Heart's Desire Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood, But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.

I whispered, 'I am too young,' and then, 'I am old enough'; wherefore I threw a penny to find out if I might love.

Whence had they come The hand and lash that beat down frigid Rome? What sacred drama through her body heaved When world-transforming Charlemagne was conceived?

What is literature but the expression of moods by the vehicle of symbol and incident?

Be secret and exult, Because of all things known That is most difficult.

My wretched dragon is perplexed.

The years like great black oxen tread the world, and God, the herdsman goads them on behind, and I am broken by their passing feet.