You speak of Lord Byron and me; there is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees I describe what I imagine. Mine is the hardest task.

Severn - I - lift me up - I am dying - I shall die easy; don't be frightened - be firm, and thank God it has come.

What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?

For axioms in philosophy are not axioms until they are proved upon our pulses.

And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.

There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.

This Grave contains all that was Mortal of a Young English Poet Who on his Death Bed in the Bitterness of his Heart at the Malicious Power of his Enemies Desired these words to be engraved on his Tomb Stone "Here lies One Whose Name was writ in Water."