What we have loved Others will love And we will teach them how.

The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.

Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when we stoop than when we soar.

The stars of midnight shall be dear To her; and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass into her face.

I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.

The budding rose above the rose full blown.