| Quotes |
Topic |
| Ability | Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed. |
| Achievement | So much to do, so little done, such things to be. |
| Advice | When a true genius appears in the world you may know him by this sign: that all the dunces are in confederacy against him. |
| Authority | Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widow'd of the power in his eye That bow'd the will. |
| Bells | Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land; Ring in the Christ that is to be. |
| Bells | Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. |
| Bells | Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow. |
| Bells | Ring out, will bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light. |
| Blackbirds | O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell. |
| Brooks | I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. |
| Chastity | Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity: The deep air listen'd round her as she rode, And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear. |
| Christmas | The time draws near the birth of Christ: The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist. |
| Circumstance | So runs the round of life from hour to hour. |
| Circumstance | And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance. |
| Confidence | Ours not to reason why Ours but to do and die. |
| Cowslips | And ye talk together still, In the language wherewith Spring Letters cowslips on the hill. |
| Cowslips | And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers. |
| Crows | As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home. |
| Daffodils | Then the face of night is fair in the dewy downs And the shining daffodil dies. |
| Darkness | And out of darkness came the hands That reach thro' nature, moulding men. |
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