I'll have no husband, if you be not he.
Death is my son-in-law. Death is my heir. My daughter he hath wedded. I will die, And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s.
And blind oblivion swallowed cities up.
How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping?
a wild dedication of yourselves To undiscovered waters, undreamed shores.
No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine And made no deeper wounds?