- The soul of man is larger than the sky, Deeper than ocean, or the abysmal dark Of the unfathomed center.
- On this hapless earth There 's small sincerity of mirth, And laughter oft is but an art To drown the outcry of the heart.
- She is not fair to outward view *As many maidens be; Her loveliness I never knew Until she smiled on me: Oh! then I saw her eye was bright, A well of love, a spring of light.
- Her very frowns are fairer far Than smiles of other maidens are.