The poetry of the earth is never dead. |
What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth. |
Scenery is fine, but human nature is finer. |
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard, are sweeter. |
The air I breathe in a room empty of you is unhealthy. |
The music, yearning like a God in pain. |
Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced. |
My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet. |
Touch has a memory. |
A thing of beauty is a joy forever. |