The little cares that fretted me, I lost them yesterday Among the fields above the sea, Among the winds at play.

There, that is our secret: go to sleep! You will wake, and remember, and understand.

I would build a cloudy House For my thoughts to live in; When for earth too fancy-loose And too low for Heaven! Hush! I talk my dream aloud - I build it bright to see, - I build it on the moonlit cloud, To which I looked with thee.

Souls are dangerous things to carry straight through all the spilt saltpetre of this world.

It was not the apple on the tree but the pair on the ground that caused the trouble in the garden of Eden.

Girls blush, sometimes, because they are alive, half wishing they were dead to save the shame. The sudden blush devours them, neck and brow; They have drawn too near the fire of life, like gnats, and flare up bodily, wings and all. What then? Who's sorry for a gnat or girl?

Large, musing eyes, neither joyous nor sorry.