“Come, take hands, you are not such
As this will weary overmuch.
Sit we down, and hear rehearse
The marvels of the sweet-souled verse”

“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.”

“He is not there but
You know you are tasting together
The winter, or a light spring weather.
His hand to take your hand is
overmuch.
Too much too bear.”

“Sit down in climbing, and hear the pines sing.”

“Come," he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to a distant sopha, "come and sit by me, and let us talk of bats.”

“Sweet to think on it, that when we are last weary of all this world there is the rising sun”

“Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong,
And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.”

“Will you come with me, sweet Reader? I thank you. Give me your hand.”

“Down the ages / they conduct their long monologue: / can'y you hear? / They hope for it from others, / wait for ones like themselves, / they were born that way. / And so has the world been arranged / that those others grow weary / and begin to take care of the chores.”

“All my days I have been troubled by the verse: "With all your soul", meaning: Even if God takes your soul. I said to myself: When will the opportunity be afforded me to fulfill this verse?”