New angel mine, unhoped for in the world!

For 'Tis not in mere death that men die most.

There are nettles everywhere, but smooth, green grasses are more common still; the blue of heaven is larger than the cloud.

What I do and what I dream include thee, as the wine must taste of its own grapes.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use

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

Death forerunneth Love to win "Sweetest eyes were ever seen."