My heart is like a singing bird / Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
The poem compares the speaker’s heart to a bird, an apple tree and a rainbow shell, then says it is “gladder than all these / Because my love is come to me”. It was collected in Goblin Market and Other Poems in 1862.
Does the road wind up-hill all the way? / Yes, to the very end.
Remember me when I am gone away, / Gone far away into the silent land;
When I am dead, my dearest, / Sing no sad songs for me;
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, / Awake for ever in a sweet unrest.