Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.

A lonely impulse of delight

Everything that's lovely is But a brief, dreamy kind of delight.

The true poet is all the time a visionary and whether with friends or not, as much alone as a man on his death bed.

Mysticism has been in the past and probably ever will be one of the great powers of the world, and it is bad scholarship to pretend the contrary. You may argue against it but you should no more treat it with disrespect than a perfectly cultivated writer would treat (say) the Catholic Church or the Church of Luther no matter how much he disliked them.

From dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I have ranged / In rambling talk with an image of air: / Vague memories, nothing but memories.

A poet is a good citizen turned inside out.