“I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deedsWith coldness still returning;Alas! the gratitude of menHas oftener left me mourning.”

“I listen'd, motionless and still;And, as I mounted up the hill,The music in my heart I bore,Long after it was heard no more.”

“The music in my heart I boreLong after it was heard no more.”

“Thanks to the human heart by which we live,Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and its fears,To me the meanest flower that blows can giveThoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.”

“Pictures deface walls more often than they decorate them.”

“In sleep I heard the northern gleams;The stars they were among my dreams;In sleep did I behold the skies”

“Lines Written In Early SpringI heard a thousand blended notes,While in a grove I sate reclined,In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughtsBring sad thoughts to the mind.To her fair works did Nature linkThe human soul that through me ran;And much it grieved my heart to thinkWhat man has made of man.Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;And 'tis my faith that every flowerEnjoys the air it breathes.The birds around me hopped and played,Their thoughts I cannot measure:--But the least motion which they madeIt seemed a thrill of pleasure.The budding twigs spread out their fan,To catch the breezy air;And I must think, do all I can,That there was pleasure there.If this belief from heaven be sent,If such be Nature's holy plan,Have I not reason to lamentWhat man has made of man?”