Wisdom married to immortal verse.

There is a comfort in the strength of love; 'Twill make a thing endurable, which else would overset the brain, or break the heart.

The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive!

Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.

Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by One after one; the sound of rain, and bees Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas, Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky - I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie Sleepless.

Poetry has never brought me in enough money to buy shoestrings.