Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?

wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

The night is darkening round me, The wild winds coldly blow; But a tyrant spell has bound me, And I cannot, cannot go.

Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they are not sure of foes.

You have been compelled to cultivate your reflective faculties, for want of occasions for frittering your life away in silly trifles.

I see heaven's glories shine and faith shines equal.