He spake of love$$$ such love as spirits feel<br>In worlds whose course is equable and pure: <br>No fears to beat away - no strife to heal$$$ <br>The past unsighed for$$$ and the future sure.

A lake carries you into recesses of feeling otherwise impenetrable.

I heard a thousand blended notes$$$<br>While in a grove I sate reclined$$$<br>In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts<br>Bring sad thoughts to the mind.<br>To her fair works did Nature link<br>The human soul that through me ran;<br>And much it grieved my heart to think<br>What man has made of man.<br>Through primrose tufts$$$ in that green bower$$$<br>The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;<br>And 'tis my faith that every flower<br>Enjoys the air it breathes.<br>The birds around me hopped and played$$$<br>Their

Dreams$$$ books$$$ are each a world; and books$$$ we know$$$<br>Are a substantial world$$$ both pure and good:<br>Round these$$$ with tendrils strong as flesh and blood$$$<br>Our pastime and our happiness will grow.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:<br>The Soul that rises with us$$$ our life's Star$$$<br>Hath had elsewhere its setting$$$<br>And cometh from afar:<br>Not in entire forgetfulness$$$<br>And not in utter nakedness$$$<br>But trailing clouds of glory do we come<br>From God$$$ who is our home.

She was a Phantom of delight<br>When first she gleam'd upon my sight;<br>A lovely Apparition$$$ sent<br>To be a moment's ornament:<br>Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;<br>Like twilight's$$$ too$$$ her dusky hair;<br>But all things else about her drawn<br>From May-time and the cheerful dawn;<br>A dancing shape$$$ an image gay$$$<br>To haunt$$$ to startle$$$ and waylay.<br>I saw her upon nearer view$$$<br>A Spirit$$$ yet a Woman too!<br>Her household motions light and free$$$<br>And steps of virgin

Rest and be thankful.

I wandered lonely as a cloud <br>That floats on high o'er vales and hills$$$ <br>When all at once I saw a crowd$$$ <br>A host$$$ of golden daffodils; <br>Beside the lake$$$ beneath the trees$$$ <br>Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. <br>Continuous as the stars that shine <br>And twinkle on the milky way$$$ <br>They stretched in never-ending line <br>Along the margin of a bay: <br>Ten thousand saw I at a glance$$$ <br>Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

Illness is a part of every human being's experience. It enhances our perceptions and reduces self-consciousness. It is the great confessional; things are said$$$ truths are blurted out which health conceals.

All women together ought to let flowers fall upon the tomb of Aphra Behn$$$ for it was she who earned them the right to speak their minds.