I would jump down Etna for any public good - but I hate a mawkish popularity.

I find I cannot exist without Poetry

Ay, on the shores of darkness there is a light, and precipices show untrodden green; there is a budding morrow in midnight; there is triple sight in blindness keen.

--then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else.

On a lone winter evening, when the frost Has wrought a silence.

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