A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.

By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.

Serene will be our days, and bright and happy will our nature be, when love is an unerring light, and joy its own security.

And when a damp Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand The thing became a trumpet; whence he blew Soul-animating strains,-alas! too few.

The common growth of Mother Earth Suffices me,-her tears, her mirth, Her humblest mirth and tears.

A cheerful life is what the Muses love. A soaring spirit is their prime delight.

My apprehension comes in crowds, I dread the rustling of the grass, The very shadows of the clouds, Have power to shake me as they pass, I question things and do not find, one that will answer to my mind, And all the world appears unkind.