There is an old saying "well begun is half done"-'tis a bad one. I would use instead-Not begun at all 'til half done.

My love is selfish. I cannot breathe without you.

O let me lead her gently o'er the brook, Watch her half-smiling lips and downward look; O let me for one moment touch her wrist; Let me one moment to her breathing list; And as she leaves me, may she often turn Her fair eyes looking through her locks auburne.

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

I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain.

Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.

That queen of secrecy, the violet.