Nothing but a speck we seem In the waste of waters round, Floating, floating like a dream, Outward bound.
Dinah Maria Murlock CraikWhen the ship is going down we trouble ourselves little enough about the style of the cabin furniture.
Dinah Maria Murlock CraikO, the mulberry-tree is of trees the queen! Bare long after the rest are green; But as time steals onwards, while none perceives Slowly she clothes herself with leaves.
Dinah Maria Murlock CraikQueens you must always be: queens to your lovers; queens to your husbands and your sons, queens of higher mystery to the world beyond. . . . But alas, you are too often idle and careless queens, grasping at majesty in the least things, while you abdicate it in the greatest.
Dinah Maria Murlock Craik