Gorgonised me from head to foot With a stony British stare.

Rain, rain, and sun! A rainbow in the sky!

Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.

The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs the deep.

The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, The vapours weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath, And after many summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world.

But while I breathe Heaven's air and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.

Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.