He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay.

For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor; So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed; And yet anon repairs his drooping head…

At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue: Tomorrow to fresh woods and pastures new.

Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth.

A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw: It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me He…

To be a catalyst is one of my life's objectives. I've been inspired by many people who in turn have been catalysts. It's very interesting to see the waves of i…

With whisper of her mellowing grain, With treble of brook and bud and tree, Earth joys for ever to sustain The bass eternal of the sea.