I begin to think that none are so bold as the timid, when they are fairly roused.

My sun sets to raise again.

Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing; Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.

We overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination... down our earth to rake.

I should not dare to call my soul my own.

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

Let us be content to work To do the things we can, and not presume To fret because it's little.