O last regret, regret can die!
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.
Attain the unattainable.
As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.