It is strange how often a heart must be broken Before the years can make it wise. - Sara Teasdale

For tho' I know he loves me, To-night my heart is sad; His kiss was not so wonderful As all the dreams I had.

You took my empty dreams
And filled them every one
With tenderness and nobleness,
April and the sun.

The old empty dreams
Where my thoughts would throng
Ae far too full of happiness
To even hold a song.

Oh, the empty dreams were dim
And the empty dreams were wide,
They were sweet and shadowy houses
Where my thoughts could hide.

You will recognize your own path
when you come upon it
because you will suddenly have all the energy
and imagination you will ever need.