There, that is our secret: go to sleep! You will wake, and remember, and understand.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Light tomorrow with today!
If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
My future will not copy my fair past, I wrote that once. And, thinking at my side my ministering life-angel justified the word by his appealing look upcast to the white throne of God.
And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben, Whose fire-hearts sowed our furrows when The world was worthy of such men.