Alexander Smith

Everything is sweetened by risk.

Everything is sweetened by risk.

The sea complains upon a thousand shores.

The sea complains upon a thousand shores.

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.

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.

We bury love,
Forgetfulness grows over it like grass;
That is a thing to weep for, not read more

We bury love,
Forgetfulness grows over it like grass;
That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.