Life, struck sharp on death, Makes awful lightning. His last word was, 'Love-' 'Love, my child, love, love!'-(then he had done with grief) 'Love, my child.' Ere I answered he was gone, And none was left to love in all the world.

Of writing many books there is no end; And I who have written much in prose and verse For others' uses, will write now for mine,- Will write my story for my be…

If I married him, I would not dare to call my soul my own, Which so he had bought and paid for: every thought And every heart-beat down there in the bill,- Not…

Here's ivy! -take them, as I used to do Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine. Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true, And tell thy soul…

Dearest, I feel certain I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of these terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voice…

'To take life,' went on the old man in a voice which, though charged with strong emotion, seemed to be speaking to itself, 'was the chief mark of the insensate…

If I had thought thou couldst have died, I might not weep for thee; But I forgot, when by thy side, That thou couldst mortal be.