And Shade The Violets, That They May

I Am Sailing With Thee Through The Dizzy Sky! How Beautiful Thou Art!

A Thing Of Beauty Is A Joy Forever.

Was It A Vision Or A Waking Dream? Fled Is That Music--do I Wake Or Sleep?

I Scarcely Remember Counting Upon Happiness—i Look Not For It If It Be Not In The Present Hour—nothing Startles Me Beyond The Moment. The Setting Sun Will Always Set Me To Rights, Or If A Sparrow Come Before My Window I Take Part In Its Existence And Pick About The Gravel.

The Thought, The Deadly Thought Of Solitude.