It seems to me that love, if it is fine, is essentially a discipline.

It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.

The things a man has heard and seen are threads of life, and if he pull them carefully from the confused distaff of memory, any who will can weave them into whatever garments of belief please them best. I too have woven my garment like another, but I shall try to keep warm in it, and shall be well content if it do not unbecome me.

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?

O what fine thought we had because we thought that the worst rogues and rascals had died out.

Out of Ireland have we come, great hatred, little room, maimed us at the start. I carry from my mother's womb a fanatic heart.

I think it better that in times like these a poet's mouth be silent, for in truth we have no gift to set a statesman right.