Nor is it wiser to weep a true occasion lost, but trim our sails, and let old bygones be.

Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.

Forgive my grief for one removed Thy creature whom I found so fair I trust he lives in Thee and there I find him worthier to be loved.

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew.

The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.

Oh for someone with a heart, head and hand. Whatever they call them, what do I care, aristocrat, democrat, autocrat, just be it one that can rule and dare not lie.

Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.