“Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youths sweet-scented Manuscript should close!”

Ah Love! could you and I with him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire Would we not shatter it to bits-and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire?

By Fate full many a heart has been undone, And many a sprightly rose made woe-begone; Plume thee not on thy lusty youth and strength: Full many a bud is blasted ere its bloom.

Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.

For in and out, above, about, below, ‘Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Played in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.

This body is a tent which for a space Does the pure soul with kingly presence grace; When he departs, comes the tent-pitcher, Death, Strikes it, and moves to a new halting-place.

The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing-Oh, make haste!

The value of three things is justly appreciated by all classes of men: youth, by the old; health, by the diseased; and wealth, by the needy.

Why ponder thus the future to foresee, and jade thy brain to vain perplexity? Cast off thy care, leave Allah’s plans to him – He formed them all without consulting thee.

Heaven has not learned of my arrival, and my departure will not in the least diminish it beauty and grandeur. I will sleep underground, for us ephemeral mortals, the only eternity is the moment and drinking to the moment is better than weeping for it.

I can’t reveal the mystery to either saint or sinner; I can’t state at length what I’ve said curtly; I achieve an altered state that I can’t explain; I have a secret that I cannot share.

I wonder what the vintners buy one half so precious as the stuff they sell.

Dead yesterdays and unborn tomorrows, why fret about it, if today be sweet.

The unbeliever knows his Koran best.

Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!

The thoughtful soul to solitude retires.

As far as you can avoid it, do not give grief to anyone. Never inflict your rage on another. If you hope for eternal rest, feel the pain yourself; but don’t hurt others.

When I die, I will send down a shower of roses from the heavens,I will spend my heaven by doing good on earth.

Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World! You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled. Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.

And she was fair as is the rose in May.

Gather the rose of love whilst yet is time.

Oh my luve’s like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June; Oh my luve’s like the melodie That’s sweetly played in tune.

I cast my heart into my rhymes, That you, in the dim coming times, May know how my heart went with them After the red-rose-bordered hem.

To be beautiful is enough! if a woman can do that well who should demand more from her? You don’t want a rose to sing.

Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly?