A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.

My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea

There are things of which I may not speak; There are dreams that cannot die; There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak, And bring a pallor into the cheek, And a mist before the eye.

The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone.

Being all fashioned of the self-same dust, let us be merciful as well as just

Oh, how beautiful is the summer night, which is not night, but a sunless, yet unclouded, day, descending upon earth with dews and shadows and refreshing coolness! How beautiful the long mild twilight, which, like a silver clasp, unites today with yesterday!

The smoking flax before it burst to flame Was quenched by death, and broken the bruised reed.