Believeth with the life, the pain shall stop.

Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.

Oh, to be in England now that April's there.

Who knows most, doubts most; entertaining hope means recognizing fear.

Shakespeare was of us, Milton was of us, Burns, Shelley, were with us. They watch from their graves!

But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?

Mothers, wives and maids, These be the tools with which priests manage men.