Of power does Man possess no particle: Of knowledge-just so much as show that still It ends in ignorance on every side.

Death: the grand perhaps.

how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet

The rain set early in tonight, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its best to vex the lake: I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up and all the cottage warm.

Truth is truth howe'er it strike.

They are perfect; how else?-they shall never change: We are faulty; why not?-we have time in store.

Man seeks his own good at the whole world's cost.