I have met with women whom I really think would like to be married to a Poem and to be given away by a Novel.
Of love, that fairest joys give most unrest.
A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
A moment's thought is passion's passing knell.
O magic sleep! O comfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind Till it is hush'd and smooth!
It ought to come like the leaves to the trees, or it better not come at all.