I will clamber through the clouds and exist.
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Conversation is not a search after knowledge, but an endeavor at effect.
I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.
The poetry of earth is never dead When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide I cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead.
An extensive knowledge is needful to thinking people-it takes away the heat and fever; and helps, by widening speculation, to ease the burden of the mystery.
It ought to come like the leaves to the trees, or it better not come at all.
Literary men are . . . a perpetual priesthood.
Touch has a memory. O say, love say, What can I do to kill it and be free In my old liberty?
I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you.
As the Swiss inscription says: Sprechen ist silbern, Schweigen ist golden,- "Speech is silvern, Silence is golden;" or, as I might rather express it, Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.
Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
Soft closer of our eyes! Low murmur of tender lullabies!
How does the poet speak to men with power, but by being still more a man than they
Works of genius are the first things in the world.
My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it.
Hear ye not the hum Of mighty workings?
It appears to me that almost any man may like the spider spin from his own inwards his own airy citadel.
What is more gentle than a wind is summer?
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave a paradise for a sect.
I have nothing to speak of but my self-and what can I say but what I feel.
one of the most mysterious of semi-speculations is, one would suppose, that of one Mind's imagining into another
Dancing music, music sad, Both together, sane and mad.
I think I shall be among the English Poets after my death.
A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
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