That rarest gift to Beauty, Common Sense!
Friendship, I fancy, means one heart between two.
Published memoirs indicate the end of a man's activity, and that he acknowledges the end.
What a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life!
I know him, February's thrush, And loud at eve he valentines On sprays that paw the naked bush Where soon will sprout the thorns and bines.
A kiss is but a kiss now! and no wave of a great flood that whirls me to the sea. But, as you will! we'll sit contentedly, and eat our pot of honey on the grave.