“Deep violets, you liken to The kindest eyes that look on you, Without a thought disloyal.”

“XI I sang his name instead of song; Over and over I sang his name: Backward and forward I sang it along, With my sweetest notes, it was still the same! I sang it low, that the slave-girls near Might never guess, from what they could hear, That all the song was a name.”

“For frequent tears have run; The colours from my life.”

“Yet how proud we are,In daring to look down upon ourselves!”

“Will that light come again, As now these tears come...falling hot and real!”

“I cannot tell what you and other menThink of this life; but, for my single self,I had as lief not be as live to beIn awe of such a thing as I myself.”

“Is it not better to intimate our astonishment as we pass through this world if it be only for a moment ere we are swallowed up in the yeast of the abyss? I will lift up my hands and say Kosmos.”

“To behold the day-break!The little light fades the immense and diaphanous shadows,The air tastes good to my palate.”