Let observation with extended observation observe extensively.
The song that nerves a nation's heart is in itself a deed.
The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.
Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moans of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be!