But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!

Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.

There's a blush for won't, and a blush for shan't, and a blush for having done it: There's a blush for thought and a blush for naught, and a blush for just begun it.

There is not a fiercer hell than the failure in a great object.

I compare human life to a large mansion of many apartments, two of which I can only describe, the doors of the rest being as yet shut upon me.

You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.

But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the sky with silver glitterings!