There, that is our secret: go to sleep! You will wake, and remember, and understand.
I should not dare to call my soul my own.
Earth's crammed with Heaven.
I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless; That only men incredulous of despair, half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air beat upward to god's throne in loud access of shrieking and reproach
So mothers have God's license to be missed.
Death forerunneth Love to win "Sweetest eyes were ever seen."