All the great blessings of my life are present in my thoughts today
Do we call the star lost that is hidden / In the great light of morn?
Death comes not to the living soul, nor age to the living heart.
Sometimes, I think the things we see are shadows of the things to be; that what we plan we build
Come up, April, though the valley, / In your robes of beauty drest, / Come and wake your flowery children / From their wintry beds of rest.
Women are only told that they resemble angels when they are young and beautiful; consequently, it is their persons, not their virtues, that procure them homage.