Perhaps the early grave Which men weep over may be meant to save.

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister

The premises are so delightfully extensive, that two people might live together without ever seeing, hearing or meeting.

Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels.

In secret we met - In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? - With silence and tears

Yet I did love thee to the last, As ferverently as thou, Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now.

Cervantes smiled Spain's chivalry away; A single laugh demolish'd the right arm Of his own country.