A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food; For transient sorrows, simple wiles, Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

Myriads of daisies have shone forth in flower Near the lark's nest, and in their natural hour Have passed away; less happy than the one That by the unwilling ploughshare died to prove The tender charm of poetry and love.

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.

Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.

A brotherhood of venerable trees.

Books! tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it.

The good die first, and they whose hearts are dry as summer dust, burn to the socket.