The ocean is a mighty harmonist.

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.

A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.

The harvest of a quiet eye, That broods and sleeps on his own heart.

This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

Poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all Science

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