Free as a bird to settle where I will.

Look at the fate of summer flowers, which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song.

No motion has she now, no force; she neither hears nor sees; rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.

Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.

What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.

Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep/ Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind.