Your thief looks Exactly like the rest, or rather better; 'Tis only at the bar, and in the dungeon, That wise men know your felon by his features.

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast.

Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more! though fallen, great!

There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.

The sky is changed,-and such a change! O night And storm and darkness! ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, Leaps the live thunder.

Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.

The mind can make substance, and people planets of its own with beings brighter than have been, and give a breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.