O For The Gentleness Of Old Romance,

Of Love, That Fairest Joys Give Most Unrest.

Literary Men Are . . . A Perpetual Priesthood.

I Have Loved The Principle Of Beauty In All Things.

Nothing Is Finer For The Purposes Of Great Productions Than A Very Gradual Ripening Of The Intellectual Powers.

To Sorrow I Bade Good-morrow, And Thought To Leave Her Far Away Behind; But Cheerly, Cheerly, She Loves Me Dearly: She Is So Constant To Me, And So Kind.