Not On One Strand Are All Life's

So With This Earthly Paradise It Is, If Ye Will Read Aright, And Pardon Me, Who Strive To Build A Shadowy Isle Of Bliss Midmost The Beating Of The Steely Sea.

Late February Days; And Now, At Last, Might You Have Thought That Winter's Woe Was Past; So Fair The Sky Was And So Soft The Air.

Slayer Of The Winter, Art Thou Here Again? O Welcome, Thou That Bring'st The Summer Nigh! The Bitter Wind Makes Not The Victory Vain. Nor Will We Mock Thee For Thy Faint Blue Sky.

No Pattern Should Be Without Some Sort Of Meaning.

Ornamental Pattern Work, To Be Raised Above The Contempt Of Reasonable Men, Must Possess Three Qualities: Beauty, Imagination And Order.