Truth is truth howe'er it strike.
Stand still, true poet that you are! I know you; let me try and draw you. Some night you'll fail us: when afar You rise, remember one man saw you, Knew you, and named a star!
Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell!
Tis looking downward makes one dizzy.
Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.
Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.