I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.
If I am asked 'what is good?' my answer is that good is good, and that is the end of the matter.
'Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.
Faith goes out through the window when beauty comes in at the door.
But from the hoop's bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound.
The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.