Terror made me cruel.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow.
No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere.
Last night, I was on the threshold of hell. To-day, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet to sever me!
It’s no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,’ she muttered.
I'm happiest when most away I can bear my soul from its home of clay On a windy night when the moon is bright And the eye can wander through worlds of light— When I am not and none beside— Nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky— But only spirit wandering wide Through infinite immensity.