“Yielding more wholesome food than all the messes That now taste-curious wanton plenty dresses.”

“The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, Writ…”

“Mine be the breezy hill that skirts the down, Where a green grassy turf is all I crave,…”

“The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.”

“But felt through all this fleshly dress Bright shoots of everlastingness.”

“She, though in full-blown flower of glorious beauty, Grows cold even in the summer of her age.”