Call the world if you please "the vale of soul-making." Then you will find out the use of the world.
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun.
A man's life of any worth is a continual allegory.
Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably
Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.