Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.

Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?

You are always new. THe last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest. When you pass'd my window home yesterday, I was fill'd with as much admiration as if I had then seen you for the first time...Even if you did not love me I could not help an entire devotion to you.

His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead, Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed.

Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.

There is an awful warmth about my heart like a load of immortality.

There was an awful rainbow once in heaven: We know her woof, her texture; she is given In the dull catalogue of common things. Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.