“One word is too often profanedFor me to profane it,One feeling too falsely disdain'dFor thee to disdain it.One hope too like dispairFor prudence to smother,I can give not what men call love:But wilt thou accept notThe worship the heart lifts aboveAnd heaven rejects not:The desire of the moth for the star,The devotion of something afarFrom the sphere of our sorrow?”

“The fountains mingle with the river,And the rivers with the ocean; The winds of heaven mix forever,With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single;All things by a law divine In one another's being mingle:— Why not I with thine? See! the mountains kiss high heaven, And the waves clasp one another; No sister flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea:— What are all these kissings worth, If thou kiss not me?”

“The One remains, the many change and pass; Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly; Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass, Stains the white radiance of Eternity, Until Death tramples it to fragments---Die, If thou wouldst be with that which thou dost seek!”

“(Title: To the Moon)Art thou pale for wearinessOf climbing heaven, and gazing on the earth,Wandering companionlessAmong the stars that have a different birth,--And ever-changing, like a joyless eyeThat finds no object worth its constancy?”

“Love, hope, and self-esteem, like clouds departAnd come, for some uncertain moments lent.Man were immortal and omnipotent,Didst thou, unknown and awful as thou art,Keep with thy glorious train firm state within his heart.”

“There was a Being whom my spirit oftMet on its visioned wanderings far aloft.A seraph of Heaven, too gentle to be human,Veiling beneath that radiant form of woman....”

“Men of England, heirs of Glory,Heroes of unwritten story,Nurslings of one mighty Mother,Hopes of her, and one another;Rise like Lions after slumberIn unvanquishable number,Shake your chains to earth like dewWhich in sleep had fallen on you-Ye are many — they are few”