You Are Always New To Me.

Oh What Can Ail Thee, Knight-at-arms, Alone And Palely Loitering?

The Public - A Thing I Cannot Help Looking Upon As An Enemy, And Which I Cannot Address Without Feelings Of Hostility.

Darkling I Listen; And, For Many A Time I Have Been Half In Love With Easeful Death, Called Him Soft Names In Many A Muse' D Rhyme, To Take Into The Air My Quiet Breath; Now More Than Ever Seems It Rich To Die, To Cease Upon The Midnight With No Pain, While Thou Art Pouring Forth Thy Soul Abroad In Such An Ecstasy!

A Little Noiseless Noise Among The Leaves, Born Of The Very Sigh That Silence Heaves.

Knowledge Enormous Makes A God Of Me.