Brisk Confidence Still Best With Woman Copes:

There's Not A Joy The World Can Give Like That It Takes Away.

This Sort Of Adoration Of The Real Is But A Heightening Of The Beau Ideal.

Glory, Like The Phoenix 'midst Her Fires, Exhales Her Odours, Blazes, And Expires.

Few Things Surpass Old Wine; And They May Preach Who Please, The More Because They Preach In Vain

In Secret We Met - In Silence I Grieve, That Thy Heart Could Forget, Thy Spirit Deceive. If I Should Meet Thee After Long Years, How Should I Greet Thee? - With Silence And Tears