“Then a hundred sad voices lifted a wail,And a hundred glad voices piped on the gale:'Time is short, life is short,' they took up the tale: 'Life is sweet, love is sweet, use to-day while you may;Love is sweet, and to-morrow may fail; Love is sweet, use to-day.”

“Ah me, but where are now the songs I sangWhen life was sweet because you call’d them sweet?”

“Yet come to me in dreams, that I may liveMy very life again though cold in death;Come back to me in dreams, that I may givePulse for pulse, breath for breath:Speak low, lean low,As long ago, my love, how long ago”

“And all the winds go sighing, For sweet things dying”

“Trust me, I have not earned your dear rebuke,I love, as you would have me, God the most;Would lose not Him, but you, must one be lost,Nor with Lot's wife cast back a faithless lookUnready to forego what I forsook;This say I, having counted up the cost,This, tho' I be the feeblest of God's host,The sorriest sheep Christ shepherds with His crook.Yet while I love my God the most, I deemThat I can never love you overmuch;I love Him more, so let me love you too;Yea, as I apprehend it, love is suchI cannot love you if I love not Him.I cannot love Him if I love not you.”

“Somewhere or other there must surely beThe face not seen, the voice not heard,The heart that not yet - never yet — ah me!Made answer to my word.Somewhere or other, may be near or far;Past land and sea, clean out of sight;Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the starThat tracks her night by night.Somewhere or other, may be far or near;With just a wall, a hedge, between;With just the last leaves of the dying yearFallen on a turf grown green. ”

“My heart is like a singing birdWhose nest is in a water'd shoot;My heart is like an apple-treeWhose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;My heart is like a rainbow shellThat paddles in a halcyon sea;My heart is gladder than all these,Because my love is come to me. Raise me a daïs of silk and down;Hang it with vair and purple dyes;Carve it in doves and pomegranates,And peacocks with a hundred eyes;Work it in gold and silver grapes,In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;Because the birthday of my lifeIs come, my love is come to me.”