I saw and heard, and knew at last The How and Why of all things, past, and present, and forevermore.

Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare. Let all who prate of Beauty hold their peace, And lay them prone upon the earth and cease To ponder on themselves, the while they stare At nothing, intricately drawn nowhere.

No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.

A grave is such a quiet place.

But she was not made for any man, and she will never be all mine.

Euclid Alone Has Looked on Beauty Bare.

Martyred many times must be Who would keep his country free.