My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.... I never felt my mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment- upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of window: you always concentrate my whole senses

And when thou art weary I'll find thee a bed, Of mosses and flowers to pillow thy head.

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

Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness.

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.

I have an habitual feeling of my real life having past, and that I am leading a posthumous existence.