What is a Poet? He is a man speaking to men: a man, it is true, endued with more lively sensibility, more enthusiasm and tenderness, who has a greater knowledge of human nature, and a more comprehensive soul, than are supposed to be common among mankind; a man pleased with his own passions and volitions, and who rejoices more than other men in the spirit of life that is in him; delighting to contemplate similar volitions and passions as manifested in the goings-on of the universe, and habitually impelled to create them where he does not find them.

The best of what we do and are, Just God, forgive!

Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.

O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice?

Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.

As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.

She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love.