Alexander Smith

We twain have met like the ships upon the sea,
Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet:
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We twain have met like the ships upon the sea,
Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet:
One little hour! and then, away they speed
On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam,
To meet no more.

If you wish to preserve your secret wrap it up in frankness.

If you wish to preserve your secret wrap it up in frankness.

Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.

Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.

Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.

Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.

Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in
the recognition.

Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in
the recognition.