The first cuckoo's melancholy cry.

Whether we be young or old,Our destiny, our being's heart and home,Is with infinitude, and only there;With hope it is, hope that can never die,Effort and expectation, and desire,And something evermore about to be.

Imagination is the means of deep insight and sympathy, the power to conceive and express images removed from normal objective reality.

Wild is the music of autumnal winds Amongst the faded woods.

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.

Knowing that Nature never did betray the heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege, through all the years of this our life, to lead from joy to joy.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.