What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?

Would The Cook Were O' My Mind!

Yea From The Table Of My Memory I'll Wipe Away All Trivial Fond Records.

A Woman Moved Is Like A Fountain Troubled, Muddy, Ill-seeming, Thick, Bereft Of Beauty.

Who Could Refrain That Had A Heart To Love And In That Heart Courage To Make Love Known?

O, Grief Hath Changed Me Since You Saw Me Last, And Careful Hours With Time's Deformed Hand Have Written Strange Defeatures In My Face. But Tell Me Yet, Dost Thou Not Know My Voice?