Death Devours All Lovely Things.

Life Must Go On; I Forget Just Why.

Her Lawn Looks Like A Meadow, And If She Mows The Place She Leaves The Clover Standing And The Queen Anne's Lace.

It's Not Love's Going Hurts My Days But That It Went In Little Ways.

The Longest Absence Is Less Perilous To Love Than The Terrible Trials Of Incessant Proximity.

Pity Me That The Heart Is Slow To Learn What The Swift Mind Beholds At Every Turn.