“what is renoun?more false than hope by dreams engendered.”

“But even friendship like our heroes'Exist no more; for we've outgrownAll sentiments and deem men zeroes--Except of course ourselves alone.We all take on Napoleon's features,And millions of our fellow creaturesAre nothing more to us than tools...Since feelings are for freaks and fools.Eugene, of course, had keen perceptionsAnd on the whole despised mankind,Yet wasn't, like so many, blind;And since each rule permits exceptions,He did respect a noble few,And, cold himself, gave warmth its due.”

“Dearer to me than a host of base truths is the illusion that exalts.”

“I loved you: and, it may be, from my soulThe former love has never gone away,But let it not recall to you my dole;I wish not sadden you in any way.I loved you silently, without hope, fully,In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain;I loved you so tenderly and truly,As let you else be loved by any man. ”

“The wondrous moment of our meeting... Still I remember you appear Before me like a vision fleeting, A beauty's angel pure and clear. In hopeless ennui surrounding The worldly bustle, to my ear For long your tender voice kept sounding, For long in dreams came features dear. Time passed. Unruly storms confounded Old dreams, and I from year to year Forgot how tender you had sounded, Your heavenly features once so dear. My backwoods days dragged slow and quiet -- Dull fence around, dark vault above -- Devoid of God and uninspired, Devoid of tears, of fire, of love. Sleep from my soul began retreating, And here you once again appear Before me like a vision fleeting, A beauty's angel pure and clear. In ecstasy my heart is beating, Old joys for it anew revive; Inspired and God-filled, it is greeting The fire, and tears, and love alive.”

“I have outlasted all desire,My dreams and I have grown apart;My grief alone is left entire,The gleamings of an empty heart.The storms of ruthless dispensationHave struck my flowery garland numb,I live in lonely desolationAnd wonder when my end will come.Thus on a naked tree-limb, blastedBy tardy winter's whistling chill,A single leaf which has outlastedIts season will be trembling still.”

“In alien lands I keep the bodyOf ancient native rites and things:I gladly free a little birdieAt celebration of the spring.I'm now free for consolation,And thankful to almighty Lord:At least, to one of his creationsI've given freedom in this world!”