Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.

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

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

The beautiful seems right by force of beauty and the feeble wrong because of weakness.

His ears were often the first thing to catch my tears.

Like to write? Of course, of course I do. I seem to live while I write - it is life, for me.

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