Spend all you have for loveliness.

My soul is a broken field, plowed by pain.

The grass is waking in the ground, / Soon it will rise and blow in waves - / How can it have the heart to sway / Over the graves, / New graves?

I found more joy in sorrow than you could find in joy.

Old love, old love, / How can I be true? / Shall I be faithless to myself / Or to you?

When I am dead, and over me bright April Shakes out her rain drenched hair, Tho you should lean above me broken hearted, I shall not care. For I shall have peace. As leafey trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough. And I shall be more silent and cold hearted Than you are now

What we have never had, remains; It is the things we have that go.