It Was The Winter Wild, While The

God Is Thy Law, Thou Mine: To Know No More Is Woman's Happiest Knowledge And Her Praise. With Thee Conversing I Forget All Time.

Seasoned Life Of Man Preserved And Stored Up In Books.

My Mansion Is, Where Those Immortal Shapes Of Bright Aerial Spirits Live Insphered In Regions Mild Of Calm And Serene Air, Above The Smoke And Stir Of This Dim Spot Which Men Call Earth.

And Out Of Good Still To Find Means Of Evil.

Time Will Run Back And Fetch The Age Of Gold.