When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years.
I stood among them, but not of them: in a shroud of thoughts which were not their thoughts.
Think not I am what I appear.
I love not man the less, but Nature more.
I have seen a thousand graves opened, and always perceived that whatever was gone, the teeth and hair remained of those who had died with them. Is not this odd? They go the very first things in youth and yet last the longest in the dust.
It is very iniquitous to make me pay my debts - you have no idea of the pain it gives one.