Sweet fire the sire of muse, my soul needs this; I want the one rapture of an inspiration. O then if in my lagging lines you miss

Go to Quote / Comment
|
That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?

Go to Quote / Comment
|
Up above, what wind walks! What lovely behavior of silk-sack clouds has wilder, wilful, wavier, meal-drift molded over and melted across skies!

Go to Quote / Comment
|
Towery city and branching between towers; Cuckoo-echoing, bell-swarmed, lark-charmed, rook-racked, river-rounded.

Go to Quote / Comment
|
all Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.

Go to Quote / Comment
|