“… Oh! burning are the drops
That wounded love will shed—like to the dew
Falling from off the poison tree, the blight
Still following the touch;—ah! other tears
Soften and bless—but these destroy the heart.”

“Still falls the Rain —
Still falls the Blood from the Starved Man's wounded Side:
He bears in His Heart all wounds, — those of the light that died,
The last faint spark
In the self-murdered heart, the wounds of the sad uncomprehending dark…”

“O! the heart has all too many tears;
But none are like those that wait
On the blighted love, the loneliness
Of the young orphan’s fate.”

“Stop and consider! life is but a day;
A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way
From a tree’s summit.”

“And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?”

“Delicious tears! the heart's own dew.”

“Tears shed for self are tears of weakness, but tears shed for others are a sign of strength.”

“A shaft of fire that falls like dew,
And melts and maddens all my blood,
From out thy spirit flashes through
The burning glass of womanhood.”

“Ah, immortality so blind,
To dream all things with it conjoined
Must follow it from star to star
And share with it immortal years.
The memory, yearning, grief, and tears,
Fall from it and it goes afar.”

“Ah is the shortest of human cries, Oh the longest. Man is born in an Ah and dies in an Oh, for birth is immediate and death is like an airplane taking off.”