Peace is in the grave.

Joy, once lost, is pain

Deep truth is imageless.

I love tranquil solitude.

Love's very pain is sweet

Jealousy's eyes are green.

I have drunken deep of joy.

Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!

The soul's joy lies in doing.

Poet's food is love and fame.

Thou Paradise of exiles, Italy!

I Fall upon the thorns of life.

Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.

Nought may endure but Mutability.

A dream has power to poison sleep.

What! alive, and so bold, O earth?

Sometimes The Devil is a gentleman.

Can man be free if woman be a slave?

I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!

Necessity, thou mother of the world!

Twin-sister of Religion, Selfishness.

Strange thoughts beget strange deeds.

All love is sweet, given or received.

I love all waste and solitary places.

I wish no living thing to suffer pain.

Songs consecrate to truth and liberty.

Teas, Where small talk dies in agonies.

A pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift.

Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may last!

He hath awakened from the dream of life.

Familiar acts are beautiful through love.

Worse than a bloody hand is a hard heart.

Honour sits smiling at the sale of truth.

That sweet sleep which medicines all pain.

The jealous keys of truth's eternal doors.

Where is perfection? Where I cannot reach.

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

We know not what we do When we speak words.

Words are but holy as the deeds they cover.

To be omnipotent but friendless is to reign.

Love's Pestilence, and her slow dogs of war.

Thy words are like a cloud of winged snakes.

There is no real wealth but the labor of man.

There is no real wealth but the labour of man.

Fear not for the future, weep not for the past.

All spirits are enslaved which serve things evil

The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.

Duty and dereliction guide thee back to solitude.

If God has spoken, why is the world not convinced.

O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

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