Needs there groan a world in anguish just to teach us sympathy?

The lie was dead And damned, and truth stood up instead.

Earth is crammed with heavens.

Oh, the little more, and how much it is! And the little less, and what worlds away.

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.

God is the perfect poet, Who in his person acts his own creations.

Therefore I summon age / To grant youth's heritage.