With a great poet the sense of Beauty overcomes every other consideration, or rather obliterates all consideration.
Death is Life’s high meed.
Beauty is truth, truth beauty,-that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
Where the nightingale doth sing Not a senseless, tranced thing, But divine melodious truth.
Much have I traveled in the realms of gold, and many goodly states and kingdoms seen.
A man’s life of any worth is a continual allegory, and very few eyes can see the mystery of his life, a life like the scriptures, figurative.
When the melancholy fit shall fall Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud, That fosters the droop-headed flowers all, And hides the green hill in an April shroud; Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose.
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.
Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.
Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not.
A thing of beauty is a joy forever.
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?
She press’d his hand in slumber; so once more He could not help but kiss her and adore.
Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken.
Philosophy will clip an angel’s wings, Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine – Unweave a rainbow.
I wish to believe in immortality-I wish to live with you forever.
The feel of not to feel it, When there is none to heal it Nor numbed sense to steel it.
He ne’er is crowned with immortality Who fears to follow where airy voices lead.
There is a budding morrow in midnight.