The living can assist the imagination of the dead.

Farewell - farewell, For I am weary of the weight of time.

Does the imagination dwell the most Upon a woman won or a woman lost?

A line will take us hours maybe; Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught.

Swift has sailed into his rest; Savage indignation there Cannot lacerate his breast Imitate him if you dare, World-besotted traveler; he Served human liberty.

Happiness is neither virtue nor pleasure nor this thing nor that but simply growth, We are happy when we are growing.

A poet is a good citizen turned inside out.