Beauty being the best of all we know sums up the unsearchable and secret aims of nature.

I know that if odour were visible, as colour is, I'd see the summer garden in rainbow clouds.

The lonely season in lonely lands, when fled Are half the birds, and mists lie low, and the sun Is rarely seen, nor strayeth far from his bed; The short days pass unwelcomed one by one.

When first we met we did not guess that Love would prove so hard a master.

Scatter the clouds that hide The face of heaven, and show Where sweet peace doth abide, Where Truth and Beauty grow.

Beauty being the best of all we know sums up the unsearchable and secret aims of nature.

My delight and thy delight Walking, like two angels white, In the gardens of the night.