Don't mess with the dead, boy, they have eerie powers.
Beauty! Terrible Beauty! A deathless Goddess-- so she strikes our eyes!
Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.
Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar.
Reproach is infinite, and knows no end So voluble a weapon is the tongue; Wounded, we wound; and neither side can fail For every man has equal strength to rail.
Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise,- Such men as live in these degenerate days.