Sweet Mercy! to the gates of heaven This minstrel lead, his sins forgiven; The rueful conflict, the heart riven With vain endeavour, And memory of Earth's bitter leaven Effaced forever.

Choice word and measured phrase above the reach Of ordinary men.

The eye— it cannot choose but see; we cannot bid the ear be still; our bodies feel, where'er they be, against or with our will.

But trailing clouds of glory do we come, From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!.

But thou that didst appear so fair To fond imagination, Dost rival in the light of day Her delicate creation.

The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.

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.