“At length their long kiss severed, with sweet smart:
And as the last slow sudden drops are shed
From sparkling eaves when all the storm has fled,
So singly flagged the pulses of each heart.”

“The harp that once through Tara's halls
The soul of music shed,
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls
As if that soul were fled.
So sleeps the pride of former days,
So glory's thrill is o'er;
And hearts that once beat high for praise
Now feel that pulse no more.”

“When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves
With minute drops from off the eaves.”

“The storm starts, when the drops start dropping
When the drops stop dropping then the storm starts stopping.”

“The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.”

“Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may last!”

“And they are gone: ay, ages long ago
These lovers fled away into the storm.”

“While memory lasts and pulses beat,
The thought of Dido shall be sweet.”

“Why do men hug words to their hearts after the living truth has long since fled from them?”

“Love moderately. Long love doth so.
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

*Love each other in moderation. That is the key to long-lasting love. Too fast is as bad as too slow.”