Only God, my dear, Could love you for yourself alone And not your yellow hair.

The falcon cannot hear the falconer

I went out to the hazelwood because a fire was in my head.

The Mask "Put off that mask of burning gold With emerald eyes." "O no, my dear, you make so bold To find if hearts be wild and wise, And yet not cold." "I would but find what's there to find, Love or deceit." "It was the mask engaged your mind, And after set your heart to beat, Not what's behind." "But lest you are my enemy, I must enquire." "O no, my dear, let all that be, What matter, so there is but fire In you, in me?"

I bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams.

I am still of opinion that only two topics can be of the least interest to a serious and studious mood - sex and the dead.

The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.