Wherein lies happiness? In that which becks Our ready minds to fellowship divine, A fellowship with essence; till we shine, Full alchemiz’d, and free of space. Behold The clear religion of heaven!

Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that ofttimes hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.

My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.

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

Here lies one whose name was writ in water.

It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores