Like the dawn upon a dream Slowly through the scented gloom Crept once more the ruddy gleam O'er the friendly nursery room. There, before our waking … - Alfred Noyes

Heart of my heart, we are one with the wind, One with the clouds
that are whirled o'er the lea, One in many, O broken and blind, One as
the waves are at one with the sea! Ay! when life seems scattered apart,
Darkens, ends as a tale that is told, One, we are one, O heart of my
heart, One, still one, while the world grows old.

I long to get away, sometimes, from my own generation. I don't care whether it's into the past, or into the future, so long as it's away from the patter into simple realities again. I hate being a slave to my own age.
...
We are so afraid of sentimentality that we're losing the power of human feeling. Our writers today understand all the brutalities and cynicisms; but how many of them understand the simple human affections that hold decent human beings together and make the world worth living in?

Dawn, ever bearing some divine increase Of beauty, love, and wisdom round the world, Dawn, like a wild-rose in the fields of heaven Washed grey with dew, awoke, and found the barque At anchor in a little land-locked bay.