Cold Hopes Swarm Like Worms

I Am Gone Into The Fields To Take What This Sweet Hour Yields; Reflection, You May Come To-morrow, Sit By The Fireside With Sorrow. You With The Unpaid Bill, Despair, You, Tiresome Verse-reciter, Care, I Will Pay You In The Grave, Death Will Listen To Your Stave.

I Wish No Living Thing To Suffer Pain.

First Our Pleasures Die - And Then Our Hopes, And Then Our Fears - And When These Are Dead, The Debt Is Due Dust Claims Dust - And We Die Too.

Within My Heart Is The Lamp Of Love, And That Is Day!

Whence Are We, And Why Are We? Of What Scene The Actors Or Spectators?