Poetry, like love, is something we never truly say goodbye to.
It 's wiser being good than bad; It 's safer being meek than fierce; It 's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched; That after Last returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched.
Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.
Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.
In the morning of the world, When earth was nigher heaven than now.
Needs there groan a world in anguish just to teach us sympathy?