I hold it true,what'er befall;I feel it, when I sorrow most;'Tis better to have loved and lostThan never to have loved at all. - In Memoriam.

Till last by Philip's farm I flowTo join the brimming river,For men may come and men may go,But I go on for ever. - The Brook.

If thou shouldst never see my face again,Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayerThan this world dreams of. - The Passing of Arthur.

O love, O fire! once he drew
With one long kiss my whole soul through
My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.

The shell must break before the bird can fly.

And so the Word had breath, and wrought/ With human hands the creed of creeds/ In loveliness of perfect deeds,/ More strong than all poetic thought.