A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair.

A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas.

A pasty costly-made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay, Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and injellied.

We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.

God and Nature met in light.

This round of green, this orb of flame, Fantastic beauty; such as lurks In some wild poet, when he works Without a conscience or an aim.

Things seen are mightier than things heard.