“All the spring may be hidden in the single bud, and the low ground nest of the lark may hold the joy that is to herald the feet of many rose-red dawns.”

“The silver trumpets rang across the Dome;The people knelt upon the ground with awe;And borne upon the necks of men I saw,Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head;In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.My heart stole back across wide wastes of yearsTo One who wandered by a lonely sea;And sought in vain for any place of rest:“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,I, only I, must wander wearily,And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”

“I believe I am to have enough to live on for about eighteen months at anyrate, so that if I may not write beautiful books, I may at least read beautifulbooks; and what joy can be greater?”

“Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.”

“Down the long and silent street, The dawn, with silver-sandaled feet,Crept like a frightened girl.”

“Behind Joy and Laughter there may be a temperament, coarse, hard and callous. But behind Sorrow there is always Sorrow. Pain, unlike Pleasure, wears no mask.”

“Ah, on what little things does happiness depend! I have read all that the wise men have written, and all the secrets of philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is my life made wretched.”