And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
What occasions the greater part of the world's quarrels? Simply this: Two minds meet and do not understand each other in time enough to prevent any shock of surprise at the conduct of either party.
It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance.