Night falls fast. Today is in the past. Blown from the dark hill hither to my door Three flakes, then four Arrive, then many more.

Beauty in all things-no, we cannot hope for that; but some place set apart for it.

I hate people but I love gatherings.

After all my erstwhile dear, my no longer cherished; Need we say it was not love, just because it perished?

The world stands out on either side, No wider than the heart is wide.

l am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground. So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind: Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Love is not all: it is not meat nor drink Nor slumber nor a roof against the rain; Nor yet a floating spar to men that sink.