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Nor do we merely feel these essences for one short hour no, even as these trees that whisper round a temple become soon dear as the temples self, so d...more

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Think of my Pleasure in Solitude, in comparison of my commerce with the world - there I am a child - there they do not know me not even my most intima...more

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If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree it had better not come at all.

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Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art--Not in lone splendour hung aloft the nightAnd watching, with eternal lids apart,Like nature's patient...more

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No one can usurp the heights...But those to whom the miseries of the worldAre misery, and will not let them rest.

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Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.

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The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn.

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Besides, a long poem is a test of invention, which I take to be the Polar star of Poetry, as Fancy is the sails - and Imagination the rudder.

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Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not

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A drainless shower of light is poesy 'tis the supreme of power 'tis might half slumb'ring on its own right arm.

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But this is human life: the war, the deeds, The disappointment, the anxiety, Imagination’s struggles, far and nigh,All human; bearing in themselves th...more

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The poetry of the earth is never dead.

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Call the world, if you please, "the Vale of Soul Making". Then you will find out the use of the world....There may be intelligences or sparks of the d...more

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I wish I was either in your arms full of faith, or that a Thunder bolt would strike me.

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You are always new. THe last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest. When you pass'd m...more