Give Me Books, French Wine, Fruit, Fine

A Drainless Shower Of Light Is Poesy: 'tis The Supreme Of Power; 'tis Might Half Slumbering On Its Own Right Arm.

To Bear All Naked Truths, And To Envisage Circumstance, All Calm, That Is The Top Of Sovereignty

The Poetry Of The Earth Is Never Dead.

Heard Melodies Are Sweet, But Those Unheard Are Sweeter; Therefore, Ye Soft Pipes, Play On; Not To The Sensual Ear, But, More Endear'd, Pipe To The Spirit Ditties Of No Tone.

All Writing Is A Form Of Prayer.