I knelt, and with the fervor of a lip unused to the cool breath of reason, told my love.

One gets, sensitive about losing mornings after getting a little used to them with living in a country. Each one of these endlessly varied daybreaks is an opera but once performed.

Like Melrose Abbey, large cities should especially be viewed by moonlight.

I knelt, and with the fervor of a lip unused to the cool breath of reason, told my love.

The rain is playing its soft pleasant tune fitfully on the skylight, and the shade of the fast-flying clouds across my book passed with delicate change.

T is the work of many a dark hour, many a prayer, to bring the heart back from an infant gone.

The taste forever refines in the study of women.