Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, 'It will be happier.'
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.
I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.
All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move.
A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies.
And out of darkness came the hands that reach thro' nature, moulding men.
The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.
God's finger touched him, and he slept.
So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.
