All Heaven and Earth are still, though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most.

Hearts will break - yet brokenly, live on.

No more we meet in yonder bowers Absence has made me prone to roving; But older, firmer hearts than ours, Have found monotony in loving.

Yon Sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight; Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native land-Good Night!

I shall soon be six-and-twenty. Is there anything in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?

Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone.

This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction.