“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!”

“Those that are good manners at the court are as ridiculous in the country, as the behavior of the country is most mockable at the court.”

“Literature is a comprehensive essence of the intellectual life of a nation.”

“If we tire of the saints, Shakspeare is our city of refuge.”