I have drunk ale from the Country of the Young / And weep because I know all things now.

It was my first meeting with a philosophy that confirmed my vague speculations and seemed at once logical and boundless.

Like a long-legged fly upon the stream / His mind moves upon silence.

Come let us mock at the great That had such burdens on the mind And toiled so hard and late To leave some monument behind, Nor thought of the leveling wind.

And many a poor man that has roved Loved and thought himself beloved From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.

It's certain that fine women eat A crazy salad with their meat.

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