The sin and the shame and the sorrow, The crime and the want and the woe That are born there in your workshop, No hand can paint, you know.

There is nothing ridiculous in love.

The truest greatness lies in being kind, the truest wisdom in a happy mind.

All love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon the sand.

Let mine not be that saddest fate of all To live beyond my greater self; to see My faculties decaying, as the tree Stands stark and helpless while its green leaves fall... "She lives, but all her usefulness is past."

There are ghosts in the room. As I sit here alone, from the dark corners there They come out of the gloom, And they stand at my side and they lean on my chair.

I was as pure as the morning When I first looked on your face; I knew I never could reach you In your high, exalted place.