Soul meets soul on lovers lips.

Blush, happy maiden, when you feel The lips which press love's glowing seal; But as the slow years darklier roll, Grown wiser, the experienced soul Will own as dearer far than they The lips which kiss the tears away.

All of us who are worth anything, spend our manhood in unlearning the follies, or expiating the mistakes of our youth.

Man has no right to kill his brother. It is no excuse that he does so in uniform: he only adds the infamy of servitude to the crime of murder.

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.