Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.
Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
Shalt show us how divine a thing A woman may be made.
By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.
The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.
'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.