Think where man's glory most begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.

There is only one romance the Soul's.

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.

Nothing but stillness can remain when hearts are full Of their own sweetness, bodies of their loveliness.

We have fallen in the dreams the ever-living Breathe on the tarnished mirror of the world, And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh.

A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him up for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness That even lovers drown.

When such as I cast out remorse; So great a sweetness flows into the breast; We must laugh and we must sing, We are blest by everything, Everything we look upon is blessed.