"Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing."

"Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same Door as in I went."

"Look to the Rose that blows about us—'Lo, Laughing,' she says, 'into the World I blow, At once the silken Tassel of my Purse Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw.'"

"A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread – and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness – Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!"

"The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on."