I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion-- I have shuddered at it, I shudder no more. I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you. My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.

was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?

I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too.

Death is Life's high meed.

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.

Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by? ---"On death

To bear all naked truths, And to envisage circumstance, all calm, That is the top of sovereignty