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.

Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.

Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced.

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

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.

Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.

You are always new. THe last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest. When you pass'd my window home yesterday, I was fill'd with as much admiration as if I had then seen you for the first time...Even if you did not love me I could not help an entire devotion to you.