God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone.

Come let us mock at the great That had such burdens on the mind And toiled so hard and late To leave some monument behind, Nor thought of the leveling wind.

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.

The only business of the head in the world is to bow a ceaseless obeisance to the heart.

My father was an angry and impatient teacher and flung the reading book at my head.

Nothing that we love overmuch Is ponderable to our touch.

We taste and feel and see the truth. We do not reason ourselves into it.