Poetry Is The Breath Of Beauty.

Light Is, Perhaps, The Most Wonderful Of All Visible Things.

An Exquisite Invention This, Worthy Of Love's Most Honeyed Kiss,-- This Art Of Writing Billet-doux-- In Buds, And Odors, And Bright Hues! In Saying All One Feels And Thinks In Clever Daffodils And Pinks; In Puns Of Tulips; And In Phrases, Charming For Their Truth, Of Daisies.

Tears Hinder Sorrow From Becoming Despair.

Beauty Too Often Sacrifices To Fashion. The Spirit Of Fashion Is Not The Beautiful, But The Wilful; Not The Graceful, But The Fantastic; Not The Superior In The Abstract, But The Superior In The Worst Of All Concretes,-the Vulgar.

Night's Deepest Gloom Is But A Calm; That Soothes The Weary Mind: The Labored Days Restoring Balm; The Comfort Of Mankind.