To Death I yield, but not to Doubt, who slays before!.

I gave thee what could not be heard What had not been given before The beat of my heart I gave !.

The spirit of the year, like bacchant crowned, With lighted torch goes careless on his way; And soon bursts into flame the maple's spray, And vines a….

Who turns away from gazing at the sun Sees its dusk images fill all the air. It is not otherwise when Hope is done: Her darkling phantoms make the he….

Treasure the shadow. ... There are no shadows save from substance cast..

The god of music dwelleth out of doors..

I follow my law and fulfil it all duly and look! when your doubt runneth high North points to the needle!.