A mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone.

Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.

Prompt to move but firm to wait - knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.

That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.

Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.