All green and fair the summer lies, Just budded from the bud of spring, With tender blue of wistful skies, And winds that softly sing.
True love is not selfish. In time it accustoms itself to anything which secures happiness for its object.
Earth's saddest day and gladdest day were just three days apart!
...this pause of rest, This morning hush before the sun.
The sobbing wind is fierce and strong; its cry is like a human wail.
Few things are more aggravating than to be forgiven when one has done no wrong.