poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge

How many undervalue the power of simplicity ! But it is the real key to the heart.

Where the statue stood Of Newton, with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of thought alone.

Babylon, Learned and wise, hath perished utterly, Nor leaves her speech one word to aid the sigh That would lament her.

Men who can hear the Decalogue, and feel To self-reproach.

Let Nature be your teacher

Happier of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there, one of a mighty multitude whose way and motion is a harmony and dance magnificent.