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I arise from dreams of thee,And a spirit in my feetHas led me- who knows how?To thy chamber-window, Sweet!

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Poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world, and makes familiar objects be as if they were not familiar.

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I consider poetry very subordinate to moral and political science.

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The fountains mingle with the river,And the rivers with the ocean; The winds of heaven mix forever,With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is singl...more

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I can give not what men call love;But wilt thou accept notThe worship the heart lifts aboveAnd the heavens reject not:The desire of the moth for the s...more

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Yes! all is past—swift time has fled away,Yet its swell pauses on my sickening mind;How long will horror nerve this frame of clay?I'm dead, and linger...more

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Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may last!

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O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

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Poetry is a mirror which makes beautiful that which is distorted

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I have drunken deep of joy,And I will taste no other wine tonight.

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A poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of...more

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If winter comes, can spring be far behind?

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When soul meets soul on lovers' lips.

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Ozymandias"I met a traveller from an antique landWho said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stoneStand in the desert. Near them on the sand,Half sunk, ...more

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Sonnet: Political GreatnessNor happiness, nor majesty, nor fame,Nor peace, nor strength, nor skill in arms or arts,Shepherd those herds whom tyranny m...more