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.

You are nipping in the bud fancies which I let blossom. The shore is safer, but I love to buffet the sea - I can count the bitter wrecks here in these pleasant waters, and hear the murmuring winds, but oh, I love the danger!

You cannot put a fire out! A thing that can ignite can go itself- without a flame- E'en through the darkest night!

One need not be a chamber to be haunted; One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place.

... I have no letter from the dead, yet daily love them more.

I cannot help esteem The 'Bird within the Hand' Superior to the one The 'Bush' may yield me Or may not Too late to choose again

I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.