The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun.

Seldom Comes Glory Till A Man Be Dead.

Tears Are The Noble Language Of The Eye.

Rise And Put On Your Foliage, And Be Seen To Come Forth, Like The Spring-time, Fresh And Green, And Sweet As Flora. Take No Care For Jewels For Your Gown Or Hair Fear Not; The Leaves Will Strew Gems In Abundance Upon You Besides, The Childhood Of The Day Has Kept, Against You Come, Some Orient Pearls Unwept. Come, And Receive Them While The Light Hangs On The Dew-locks Of The Night And Titan On The Eastern Hill Retires Himself, Or Else Stands Still Till You Come Forth! Wash, Dress, Be Brief In Praying Few Beads Are Best When Once We Go A-maying.

A Spark Neglected Makes A Mighty Fire.

But Ne'er The Rose Without The Thorn.