I don't need the stars in the night I found my treasure All I need is you by my side so shine forever
On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence.
Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night!
What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?
Already with thee! tender is the night. . . But here there is no light. . .
The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.