Thought and theory must precede all action, that moves to salutary purposes. Yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.

In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .

My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man.

The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.

Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Or surely you 'll grow double! Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks! Why all this toil and trouble?

It may be safely affirmed that there neither is, nor can be, any essential difference between the language of prose and metrical composition.... They both speak by and to the same organs; the bodies in which both of them are clothed may be said to be of the same substance, their affections are kindred, and almost identical, not necessarily differing even in degree; Poetry sheds no tears "such as Angels weep," but natural and human tears; she can boast of no celestial ichor that distinguishes her vital juices from those of prose; the same human blood circulates through the veins of them both.

The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet's dream.