Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse—and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness—And Wilderness is Paradise enow.
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"Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane, The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again: How oft hereafter rising shall she look Through this same Garden after me—in vain!"
"You come like a thief in the night, and steal away a little portion of my life; and I cannot get it back again."
"Some for the Glories of This World; and some Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest; Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!"
"For let us make our Fête of to-day, for to-morrow we are gone, and what we have enjoyed is gone, and we are gone, and gone is our memory too."
"The Fire that on my bosom burns, Is not the Fire of Hell; But the Fire of Love, that turns My Soul into a Bell."
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