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

In modern business it is not the crook who is to be feared most, it is the honest man who doesn't know what he is doing.

The child is father of the man.

Nuns fret not at their convent's narrow room; And hermits are contented with their cells.

The childhood of today is the manhood of tomorrow

That inward eye/ Which is the bliss of solitude.

O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice?