Take the sweet poetry of life away, and what remains behind?

We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

These hoards of wealth you can unlock at will.

It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven broods o'er the sea: Listen! the mighty being is awake, And doth with his eternal motion make A sound like thundereverlastingly.

The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink I heard a voice it said Drink, pretty creature, drink'

To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.