Beauty Too Often Sacrifices To Fashion.

We Are Violets Blue, For Our Sweetness Found Careless In The Mossy Shades, Looking On The Ground. Love's Dropp'd Eyelids And A Kiss,-- Such Our Breath And Blueness Is.

Oh For A Seat In Some Poetic Nook, Just Hid With Trees And Sparkling With A Brook!

It Flows Through Old Hushed Egypt And Its Sands, Like Some Grave Mighty Thought Threading A Dream, And Times And Things, As In That Vision, Seem Keeping Along It Their Eternal Stands.

Table Talk, To Be Perfect, Should Be Sincere Without Bigotry, Differing Without Discord, Sometimes Grave, Always Agreeable, Touching On Deep Points, Dwelling Most On Seasonable Ones, And Letting Everybody Speak And Be Heard.

One Can Love Any Man That Is Generous.