“They wander in deep woods, in mournful light,
Amid long reeds and drowsy headed poppies
And lakes where no wave laps, and voiceless streams,
Upon whose banks in the dim light grow old
Flowers that were once bewailèd names of kings.”

“There’s a land far away mid the stars,
Where they know not the sorrows of time
Where the pure waters wander through valleys of gold
A land whose light is never dimmed by shadow,
Whose fields are ever vernal,
Where nothing beautiful can ever fade,
But blooms for aye eternal.”

“Deep in their roots all flowers keep the light.”

“The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.”

“Whence is the stream of years? Whither do they roll along? Where have they hid, in mist, their many-coloured sides?
I look into the times of old, but they seem dim to Ossian's eyes, like reflected moon-beams, on a distant lake.”

“Where hunters and woodcutters once slept in their boots by the dying light of their thousand fires and went on, old teutonic forebears with eyes incandesced by the visionary light of a massive rapacity, wave on wave of the violent and the insane, their brains stoked with spoorless analogues of all that was, lean aryans with their abrogate semitic chapbook reenacting the dramas and parables therein and mindless and pale with a longing that nothing save dark's total restitution could appease.”

“The Lake was that deep blue, which night
Wears in the zenith moon's full light;
With pebbles shining thro', like gems
Lighting sultana's diadems :”

“In the spring or warmer weather when the snow thaws in the woods the tracks of winter reappear on slender pedestals and the snow reveals in palimpsest old buried wanderings, struggles, scenes of death. Tales of winter brought to light again like time turned back upon itself.”

“Aye, and deep and deep and deeper let me drink and draw,
From the olden fountain more than light or peace or dream,
Such primeval being as o'erfills the heart with awe,
Growing one with its silent stream.”

“Our roots are in the depths of the woods-on the banks of streams and among the mosses.”