That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again.

But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?

Alas! how little can a moment show Of an eye where feeling plays In ten thousand dewy rays: A face o'er which a thousand shadows go!

My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man.

We Poets in our youth begin in gladness; But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.