"Among the twelve hundred poems which have emanated from my too prolific pen there are some forty or fifty which treat entirely of that emotion which has been denominated "the grand passion"-love. A few of those are of an extremely fiery character." "Oh, you who read some song that I have sung, What know you of the soul from whence it sprung? Dost dream the poet ever speaks aloud His secret thought unto the listening crowd? Go take the murmuring sea-shell from the shore: You have its shape, its color and no more. It tells not one of those vast mysteries That lie beneath the surface of the seas. Our songs are shells, cast out by-waves of thought; Here, take them at your pleasure; but think not You've seen beneath the surface of the waves, Where lie our shipwrecks and our coral caves."