In love it does not matter what you say, but what you feel. In poetry it does not matter what you feel, but what you say.

Let merchants traverse seas and lands, For silver mines and golden sands; Whilst I beside some shadowy rill, Just where its bubbling fountain swells, Do sit and gather stones and shells, And hear

Let me go warm and merry still; And let the world laugh, an' it will.

Feathers are Love's most fitting battle-ground.

The hours will hardly forgive you, those hours that are wearing away the days, those days that are gnawing away the years.

Life is a wounded stag in whom the fast-stuck arrows function as wings.

Longer than a winter's night for a man who is ill-wed.