My Whole Life Has Been Pledged To

Better The Illusions That Exalt Us Than Ten Thousand Truths.

It's A Lucky Man, A Very Lucky Man, Who Is Committed To What He Believes, Who Has Stifled Intellectual Detachment And Can Relax In The Luxury Of His Emotions - Like A Tipsy Traveller Resting For The Night At Wayside Inn.

I Loved You: And, It May Be, From My Soul The Former Love Has Never Gone Away, But Let It Not Recall To You My Dole; I Wish Not Sadden You In Any Way. I Loved You Silently, Without Hope, Fully, In Diffidence, In Jealousy, In Pain; I Loved You So Tenderly And Truly, As Let You Else Be Loved By Any Man.

To Love All Ages Yield Surrender; But To The Young It's Raptures Bring A Blessing Bountiful And Tender- As Storms Refresh The Fields Of Spring.

I Have Outlasted All Desire, My Dreams And I Have Grown Apart; My Grief Alone Is Left Entire, The Gleamings Of An Empty Heart. The Storms Of Ruthless Dispensation Have Struck My Flowery Garland Numb, I Live In Lonely Desolation And Wonder When My End Will Come. Thus On A Naked Tree-limb, Blasted By Tardy Winter's Whistling Chill, A Single Leaf Which Has Outlasted Its Season Will Be Trembling Still.