I scarcely remember counting upon happiness—I look not for it if it be not in the present hour—nothing startles me beyond the moment. The setting sun will always set me to rights, or if a sparrow come before my Window I take part in its existence and pick about the gravel.
What is more gentle than a wind is summer?
The days of peace and slumberous calm are fled.
For axioms in philosophy are not axioms until they are proved upon our pulses.
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.
They swayed about upon a rocking horse, And thought it Pegasus.