When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty,” – that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
My chest of books divide amongst my friends –.
Knowledge enormous makes a god of me.
Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes.
I never was in love – yet the voice and the shape of a woman has haunted me these two days.
I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else.
The uttered part of a man’s life, let us always repeat, bears to the unuttered, unconscious part a small unknown proportion. He himself never knows it, much less do others.
I would jump down Etna for any public good – but I hate a mawkish popularity.
Are there not thousands in the world who love their fellows even to the death, who feel the giant agony of the world, and more, like slaves to poor humanity, labor for mortal good?
I equally dislike the favor of the public with the love of a woman – they are both a cloying treacle to the wings of independence.
We must repeat the often repeated saying, that it is unworthy a religious man to view an irreligious one either with alarm or aversion, or with any other feeling than regret and hope and brotherly commiseration.
Give me women, wine and snuff Until I cry out ‘hold, enough!’ You may do so san objection Till the day of resurrection; For bless my beard then aye shall be My beloved Trinity.
Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine?
Load every rift with ore.
I always made an awkward bow.
A poet without love were a physical and metaphysical impossibility.
Their woes gone by, and both to heaven upflown, To bow for gratitude before Jove’s throne.
O fret not after knowledge – I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge – I have none, and yet the Evening listens.
It can be said of him, when he departed he took a Man’s life with him. No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth century of Time.
I cannot exist without you – I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again – my Life seems to stop there – I see no further. You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving...