Cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt.

So I find every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, The field, the chamber, and the street, For all is dark where thou art not

Love will conquer at the last.

Virtue must shape itself in deed.

The woman's cause is man's. They rise or sink Together. / Dwarf'd or godlike, bound or free; miserable, / How shall men grow? - Let her be / All that not harms distinctive womanhood.

There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.

Tho' much is taken, much abides.