I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever. - Robert Browning

Oh, to be in England Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brush-wood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf.

With mortals much must go, but something stays;
Nothing will stay of our so happy selves.

One who never turned his back but marched breast forward, Never doubted clouds would break, Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph, Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, Sleep to wake.