কমল ফুটে অগম জলে,
      তুলিবে তারে কেবা।  
সবার তরে পায়ের তলে
      তৃণের রহে সেবা।

AS THE TENDER twilight covers in its fold of dusk-veil marks of
hurt and wastage from the dusty day's prostration, even so
let my great sorrow for thy loss. Beloved, spread one
perfect golden-tinted silence of its sadness o'er my life.
Let all its jagged fractures and distortions, all unmeaning
scattered scraps and wrecks and random ruins, merge in
vastness of some evening stilled with thy remembrance,
filled with endless harmony of pain and peace united.

YOUR DAYS WILL be full of cares, if you must give me your heart. My house by the cross-roads has its doors open and my mind is absent,-for I sing.
I shall never be made to answer for it, if you must give me your heart. If I pledge my word to you in tunes now, and am too much in earnest to keep it when music is silent, you must forgive me; for the law laid in May is best broken in December.
Do not always keep remembering it, if you must give me your heart. When your eyes sing with love, and your voice ripples with laughter, my answers to your questions will be wild, and not miserly accurate in facts,- they are to be believed for ever and then forgotten for good.