“Above,the fair hall-ceiling stately set Many an arch high up did lift,And angels rising and descending met With interchange of gift.”

“I am part of all that I have met;Yet all experience is an arch wherethroughGleams that untravelled world, whose margin fadesFor ever and for ever when I move.How dull it is to pause, to make an end,To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!As though to breath were life. Life piled on lifeWere all too little, and of one to meLittle remains: but every hour is savedFrom that eternal silence, something more,A bringer of new things; and vile it wereFor some three suns to store and hoard myself,And this grey spirit yearning in desireTo follow knowledge like a sinking star,Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.”

“Not once or twice in our fair island-story,The path of duty was the way to glory.”

“I hold it truth, with him who singsTo one clear harp in divers tones,That men may rise on stepping-stonesOf their dead selves to higher things.”

“The woman's cause is man's. They rise or sinkTogether. Dwarf'd or godlike, bound or free; miserable, How shall men grow?--Let her beAll that not harms distinctive womanhood.”

“Yet I thought I saw her stand,A shadow there at my feet,High over the shadowy land.”

“To many-towered Camelot”