Doubt Is The Shadow Of Truth.

When I Forget That The Stars Shine In Air-- When I Forget That Beauty Is In Stars-- When I Forget That Love With Beauty Is-- Will I Forget Thee: Till Then All Things Else.

See The Gold Sunshine Patching, And Streaming And Streaking Across The Gray-green Oaks; And Catching, By Its Soft Brown Beard, The Moss.

Poets Are All Who Love, Who Feel Great Truths, And Tell Them; And The Truth Of Truths Is Love.

Youth Might Be Wise; We Suffer Less From Pains Than Pleasures.

Men Might Be Better If We Better Deemed Of Them.