Shadows fall on even the brightest hours.

So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!

A single star is rising in the east, and from afar sheds a most tremulous lustre; silent Night doth wear it like a jewel on her brow.

Women are so gentle, so affectionate, so true in sorrow, so untired and untiring! but the leaf withers not sooner, and tropic light fades not more abruptly.

Death is the tyrant of the imagination.

I said that I loved the wise proverb, Brief, simple and deep; For it I'd exchange the great poem That sends us to sleep.

The sea! The sea! The open sea!, The blue, the fresh, the ever free!