Things thought too long can be no longer thought, For beauty dies of beauty, worth of worth, And ancient lineaments are blotted out.

Designs in connection with postage stamps and coinage may be described, I think, as the silent ambassadors on national taste.

That toil of growing up; The ignominy of boyhood; the distress Of boyhood changing into man; The unfinished man and his pain.

I gave what other women gave That stepped out of their clothes But when this soul, its body off Naked to naked goes, He it has found shall find therein What none other knows.

Locke sank into a swoon; The Garden died; God took the spinning-jenny Out of his side.

Do not wait to strike till the iron is hot; but make it hot by striking.

O but we dreamed to mend Whatever mischief seemed To afflict mankind, but now That winds of winter blow Learn that we were crack-pated when we dreamed.