She was like me in lineaments-- her eyes Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone Even of her voice, they said were like to mine; But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty; She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind To comprehend the universe: nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears-- which I had not; And tenderness-- but that I had for her; Humility-- and that I never had. Her faults were mine-- her virtues were her own-- I loved her, and destroy'd her!

Know ye not who would be free themselves must strike the blow? by their right arms the conquest must be wrought?

The busy have no time for tears.

So sweet the blush of bashfulness, E'en pity scarce can wish it less!

Brisk Confidence still best with woman copes: Pique her and soothe in turn-soon Passion crowns thy hopes.

The heart will break, but broken live on.

Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?