By happy chance we saw A twofold image: on a grassy bank A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood Another and the same!

If thou art beautiful, and youth and thought endue thee with all truth-be strong;--be worthy of the grace of God.

Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.

Oh, blank confusion! true epitome Of what the mighty City is herself, To thousands upon thousands of her sons, Living amid the same perpetual whirl Of trivial objects, melted and reduced To one identity.

And suddenly all your troubles melt away, all your worries are gone, and it is for no reason other than the look in your partner's eyes. Yes, sometimes life and love really is that simple.

The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.

And when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains,-alas! too few.