“A louse in the locks of literature.”

“Theirs not to make reply,Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to do and die.”

“We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;“Ulysses” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson”

“the deep moans round with many voices.”

“My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.”

“Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed.”

“I have led her home, my love, myonly friend.There is none like her, none,And never yet so warmly ran myblood,And sweetly, on and onCalming itself to the long-wished forend,Full to the banks, close on the prom-ised good.”