The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its best to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up and all the cottage warm.

Where the apple reddens never pry - lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I.

how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet

Any nose may ravage with impunity a rose.

What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop?

Talent should minister to genius.

Fair or foul the lot apportioned life on earth, we bear alike.