Of what I call God, And fools call Nature.
If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing God invents.
Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais): "Open my heart, and you will see Graved inside of it 'Italy.'"
When I love most, love is disguised. In hate; and when hate is surprised, in love, then I hate most.
Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.
Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.