The fire upon the hearth is low, And there is stillness everywhere, And, like winged spirits, here and there The firelight shadows fluttering go.

We twain Discussed with buoyant hearts The various things that appertain To bibliomaniac arts.

A little peach in an orchard grew,- A little peach of emerald hue; Warmed by the sun and wet by the dew It grew.

Ideas came with explosive immediacy, like an instant birth. Human thought is like a monstrous pendulum; it keeps swinging from one extreme to the other.

It was the silent time before dawn, along the shores of what had been one of the most beautiful lakes in southern Africa.

O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warbl'st at eve, when all the woods are still.

A heaven so clear, an earth so calm, So sweet, so soft, so hushed an air; And, deepening still the dreamlike charm, Wild moor-sheep feeding everywhere.