Who Would Wish To Be Among The

I Find That I Can Have No Enjoyment In The World But The Continual Drinking Of Knowledge. I Find There Is No Worthy Pursuit But The Idea Of Doing Some Good For The World.

Poetry Should Surprise By A Fine Excess And Not By Singularity, It Should Strike The Reader As A Wording Of His Own Highest Thoughts, And Appear Almost A Remembrance.

I Have Good Reason To Be Content, For Thank God I Can Read And Perhaps Understand Shakespeare To His Depths.

I Saw Pale Kings And Princes Too, Pale Warriors, Death-pale Were They All; They Cried- "la Belle Dame Sans Merci Hath Thee In Thrall!

O Let Me Lead Her Gently O'er The Brook, Watch Her Half-smiling Lips And Downward Look; O Let Me For One Moment Touch Her Wrist; Let Me One Moment To Her Breathing List; And As She Leaves Me, May She Often Turn Her Fair Eyes Looking Through Her Locks Auburne.