The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pour'd back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remembered to have been Joyful and free from blame.
Love is the only gold.
Man's word is God in man.
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew.
Either sex alone is half itself.
To me He is all fault who hath no fault at all: For who loves me must have a touch of earth.