When I have fears that I may ceace to be, Before my pen has gleaned my teaming brain".

The excellency of every art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeable evaporate.

To one who has been long in city pent, ’Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, — to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament.

She hurried at his words, beset with fears, For there were sleeping dragons all around.

No sooner had I stepp'd into these pleasures Than I began to think of rhymes and measures: The air that floated by me seem'd to say 'Write! thou wilt never have a better day.

...yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From out dark spirits.

Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.