poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge

Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man.

The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants; and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.

At length the man perceives it die away, And fade into the light of common day.

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.

The good die first, and they whose hearts are dry as summer dust, burn to the socket.

Minds that have nothing to confer Find little to perceive.