There's a blush for won't, and a blush for shan't, and a blush for having done it: There's a blush for thought and a blush for naught, and a blush for just begun it.

You are always new. The last of your kisses was even the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.

There is nothing stable in the world; uproar's your only music.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.

O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.

Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.