I compare human life to a large mansion of many apartments, two of which I can only describe, the doors of the rest being as yet shut upon me.

Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know.

I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there - I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving.

What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?

My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.

And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.

It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores