Real Are The Dreams Of Gods, And

'tis The Witching Hour Of Night, Orbed Is The Moon And Bright. And The Stars They Glisten, Glisten, Seeming With Bright Eyes To Listen- For What Listen They?

Many Have Original Minds Who Do Not Think It - They Are Led Away By Custom!

It Appears To Me That Almost Any Man May Like The Spider Spin From His Own Inwards His Own Airy Citadel.

I Love Your Hills And I Love Your Dales, And I Love Your Flocks A-bleating; But Oh, On The Heather To Lie Together, With Both Our Hearts A-beating!

We Read Fine Things But Never Feel Them To The Full Until We Have Gone The Same Steps As The Author.