The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more.

Affection is like bread, unnoticed till we starve, and then we dream of it, and sing of it, and paint it, when every urchin in the street has more than he can eat.

These are the days when birds come back, a very few, a Bird or two, to take a backward look.

I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the rows of stars around it's forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; yet to my frugal eye of more esteem than ducats. Oh! Find it, sir, for me!

I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy; I said: "'T will keep." I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone; And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.

The hearts that never lean must fall.

The truth I do not dare to know I muffle with a jest.