When She Had Passed, It Seemed Like

It Takes Less Time To Do A Thing Right, Than It Does To Explain Why You Did It Wrong.

It Is Curious To Note The Old Sea-margins Of Human Thought! Each Subsiding Century Reveals Some New Mystery; We Build Where Monsters Used To Hide Themselves.

The Leaves Of Memory Seemed To Make A Mournful Rustling In The Dark

Ships That Pass In The Night, And Speak Each Other In Passing, Only A Signal Shown, And A Distant Voice In The Darkness; So On The Ocean Of Life, We Pass And Speak One Another, Only A Look And A Voice, Then Darkness Again And A Silence.

As I Gaze Upon The Sea! All The Old Romantic Legends, All My Dreams, Come Back To Me.