A Thing Of Beauty Is A Joy

The Creature Has A Purpose, And His Eyes Are Bright With It.

O Aching Time! O Moments Big As Years!

Every Fresh Experience Points Out Some Form Of Error Which We Shall Afterwards Carefully Avoid.

But Let Me See Thee Stoop From Heaven On Wings That Fill The Sky With Silver Glitterings!

Who, Of Men, Can Tell That Flowers Would Bloom, Or That Green Fruit Would Swell To Melting Pulp, That Fish Would Have Bright Mail, The Earth Its Dower Of River, Wood, And Vale, The Meadows Runnels, Runnels Pebble-stones, The Seed Its Harvest, Or The Lute Its Tones, Tones Ravishment, Or Ravishment Its Sweet, If Human Souls Did Never Kiss And Greet?