The world is too brutal for me-I am glad there is such a thing as the grave-I am sure I shall never have any rest till I get there.

He ne'er is crowned with immortality Who fears to follow where airy voices lead.

... for, by all the stars That tend thy bidding, I do think the bars That kept my spirit in are burst - that I Am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!

The roaring of the wind is my wife and the stars through the window pane are my children. The mighty abstract idea I have of beauty in all things stifles the more divided and minute domestic happiness.

So rainbow-sided, touch'd with miseries, She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf, Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.

My creed is love and you are its only tenet.

The feel of not to feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steel it.