Dark house, by which once more I stand
Here in the long unlovely street,
Doors, where my heart was used to beat
So quickly, waiting for a hand,
A hand that can be clasp'd no more -
Behold me, for I cannot sleep,
And like a guilty thing I creep
At earliest morning to the door.
He is not here; but far away
The noise of life begins again,
And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain
On the bald street breaks the blank day.
Theirs not to reason why, 
Tis better to have loved and lost
Hope
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams? 
My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure. 
Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love. 
Weakness to be wroth with weakness! woman's pleasure, woman's
pain--
Nature made them blinder mo... 
And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers. 
And every dew-drop paints a bow. 
For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the vision of the world, and all the w... 