To love all ages yield surrender; But to the young it's raptures bring A blessing bountiful and tender- As storms refresh the fields of spring. - Alexander Pushkin

But really, this is no great sorrow, particularly, you’ll agree, when wine’s imported duty-free.

It's a lucky man, a very lucky man, who is committed to what he believes, who has stifled intellectual detachment and can relax in the luxury of his emotions - like a tipsy traveller resting for the night at wayside inn.

Thou and You and A Love Letter

She substituted, by a chance,
For empty ‘you’ – the gentle ‘thou';
And all my happy dreams, at once,
In loving heart again resound.
In bliss and silence do I stay,
Unable to maintain my role:
‘Oh, how sweet you are!’ I say –
‘How I love thee!’ says my soul.