Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.

It's certain there is no fine thing Since Adam's fall but needs much laboring.

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.

The years like great black oxen tread the world, and God, the herdsman goads them on behind, and I am broken by their passing feet.

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, the blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned.

Love comes in at the eye.