Free as a bird to settle where I will.

Like thoughts whose very sweetness yielded proof that they were born for immortality.

Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.

Heaven lies about us in our infancy! Shades of the prison-house begin to close upon the growing boy.

The gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.

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

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