Beauty is truth, truth beauty

Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away.

Wherein lies happiness? In that which becks Our ready minds to fellowship divine, A fellowship with essence; till we shine, Full alchemiz’d, and free of space. Behold The clear religion of heaven!

My chest of books divide amongst my friends.

was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?

Where are the songs of Spring? Aye, where are they? Think not of them; thou has thy music too.

Already with thee! tender is the night. . . But here there is no light. . .