His love was like the liberal air, embracing all, to cheer and bless.

Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore; Plain living and high thinking are no more.

I've watched you now a full half-hour; Self-poised upon that yellow flower And, little Butterfly! Indeed I know not if you sleep or feed. How motionless! - not frozen seas More motionless! and then What joy awaits you, when the breeze Hath found you out among the trees, And calls you forth again!

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

But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?

But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.

Golf is a day spent in a round of strenuous idleness.