poetry is the breath and finer spirit of knowledge
Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect
Poetry is the outcome of emotions recollected in tranquility.
A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad-singer's joy.
He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice?