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.
George Edward Moore'Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.
George Edward MooreCan't I another's face commend, Or to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead louers, As if her merit lessen'd yours?
George Edward Moore