“Sounds of vernal showersOn the twinkling grass,Rain awaken'd flowers,All that ever wasJoyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass”

“Music, When Soft Voices DieMusic, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap'd for the belovèd's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.”

“Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep - He hath awakened from the dream of life”

“O weep for Adonis - He is dead." "Peace. He is not dead he doth not sleep - he hath wakened from the dream of life”

“I arise from dreams of thee,And a spirit in my feetHas led me- who knows how?To thy chamber-window, Sweet!”

“Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,Are heaped for the beloved's bed;And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,Love itself shall slumber on.”

“Music, when soft voices die, vibrates in the memory.”