How My Achievements Mock Me!

These Flowers Are Like The Pleasures Of The World.

I Loved Ophelia. Forty Thousand Brothers Could Not, With All Their Quantity Of Love, Make Up My Sum.

People’s Good Deeds We Write In Water. The Evil Deeds Are Etched In Brass.

Then Was I As A Tree Whose Boughs Did Bend With Fruit; But In One Night, A Storm Or Robbery, Call It What You Will, Shook Down My Mellow Hangings, Nay, My Leaves, And Left Me Bare To Weather.

Equality Of Two Domestic Powers Breeds Scrupulous Faction.