We Must Not Look At Goblin Men,

Love Loves For Ever, And Finds A Sort Of Joy In Pain, And Gives With Nought To Take Again, And Loves Too Well To End In Vain: Is The Gain Small Then? Love Laughs At "never", Outlives Our Life, Exceeds The Span Appointed To Mere Mortal Man: All Which Love Is And Does And Can Is All In All Then.

My Heart Is Like A Singing Bird Whose Nest Is In A Water'd Shoot; My Heart Is Like An Apple-tree Whose Boughs Are Bent With Thick-set Fruit.

Were There No God, We Would Be In This Glorious World With Grateful Hearts, And No One To Thank.

Where Are The Songs I Used To Know, Where Are The Notes I Used To Sing? I Have Forgotten Everything I Used To Know So Long Ago. ("the Key-note")

Consider The Lilies Of The Field Whose Bloom Is Brief:-- We Are As They; Like Them We Fade Away As Doth A Leaf.