Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod? / Or Love in a golden bowl?

from Thel’s Motto

I am a watery weed, / And I am very small and love to dwell in lowly vales: / So weak the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head. / Yet I am visited from heaven and he that smiles on all / Walks in the valley.

from Part I

Then if thou art the food of worms, O virgin of the skies, / How great thy use, how great thy blessing

from Part II

every thing that lives. / Lives not alone nor for itself

from Part II

Why cannot the Ear be closed to its own destruction? / Or the glistening Eye to the poison of a smile!

from Part IV