"How gracious those dews of solace that over my senses fall At the clink of the ice in the pitcher the boy brings up the hall."

Previous Quote

Forgive me if, in friendship’s way, I offer thee a wreath of May.... [N]ourished by the dews of heaven.... So I have Ivy placed between, To prove that worth is ever green. The little blue Forget-me-not... Spring’s messenger in every spot, Smiling on all—"Remember me!

— John Clare