Earth has not anything to show more fair.

Oft in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life.

Miss not the occasion; by the forelock take that subtle power, the never-halting time.

Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give, And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!

When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.

The Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society.

No motion has she now, no force; she neither hears nor sees; rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.