My Joy In Friends, Those Sacred People,

There Are No Days In Life So Memorable As Those Which Vibrate To Some Stroke Of The Imagination.

The Dearest Events Are Summer-rain.

I See It Only That Thyself Is Here, And Art And Nature, Hope And Fate, Friends, Angels And The Supreme Being Shall Not Be Absent From The Chamber Where Thou Sittest.

If With Love Thy Heart Has Burned; If Thy Love Is Unreturned; Hide Thy Grief Within Thy Breast, Though It Tear Thee Unexpressed.

None Believeth In The Soul Of Man, But Only In Some Man Or Person Old And Departed.