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

...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.

So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight

We needs must love the highest when we see it.

I can't sleep without knowing there's hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips... the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.

His honour rooted in dishonour stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.

Manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal and of noble mind.