I lock my door upon myself, And bar them out; but who shall wall Self from myself, most loathed of all?

The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read.

For one man is my world of all the men this wide world holds; O love, my world is you.

Where are the songs I used to know, Where are the notes I used to sing? I have forgotten everything I used to know so long ago. ("The Key-Note")

Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing.

And all winds go sighing For sweet things dying.

Love is like a rose, the joy of all the earth.