With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars.

Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none; / Look up a second time, and, one by one, / You mark them twinkling out with silvery light, / And wonder how they could elude the sight!

Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.

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

The silence that is in the starry sky, / The sleep that is among the lonely hills.

Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind--But how could I forget thee?

One with more of soul in his face than words on his tongue.