“What shall I do to be for ever known,And make the age to come my own?”

“Memory haunts me from age to age, and passion leads me by the hand--evil have I done, and with sorrow have I made acquaintance from age to age, and from age to age evil shall I do, and sorrow shall I know till my redemption comes.”

“No, I do know that I was born To age, misfortune, sickness, grief:But I will bear these with that scorn As shall not need thy false relief.Nor for my peace will I go far, As wanderers do, that still do roam;But make my strengths, such as they are, Here in my bosom, and at home.”

“What shall I do with this ageing me? Neither floating nor sinking,I drift, tossed by the waves of years.”

“Too old to plant trees for my own gratification, I shall do it for my posterity.”

“I never have been in love; it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall.”