Like A Mermaid In Sea-weed, She Dreams

Where Soil Is, Men Grow, Whether To Weeds Or Flowers.

I Have So Much Of You In My Heart.

I Think I Shall Be Among The English Poets After My Death.

Dry Your Eyes O Dry Your Eyes, For I Was Taught In Paradise To Ease My Breast Of Melodies.

I Have Good Reason To Be Content, For Thank God I Can Read And Perhaps Understand Shakespeare To His Depths.