Came but for friendship, and took away love.
Every season hath its pleasure; Spring may boast her flowery prime, Yet the vineyard's ruby treasuries Brighten Autumn's sob'rer time.
Faith, Fanatic faith, once wedded fast to some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last.
In our prayer and meditation we hope for fulfilling ordinary life.
This is the right time, and this is the right thing.
With what a deep devotedness of woe I wept thy absence - o'er and o'er again Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that, night and day, Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!