“Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?---"On death”

“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.”

“Real are the dreams of gods, and soothly pass their pleasures in a long immortal dream. ”

“was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?”

“Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!    No hungry generations tread thee down;  The voice I hear this passing night was heard    In ancient days by emperor and clown:  Perhaps the self-same song that found a path     Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,      She stood in tears amid the alien corn;            The same that ofttimes hath    Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam      Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.”

“t this is human life: the war, the deeds,The disappointment, the anxiety,Imagination's struggles, far and nigh,All human; bearing in themselves this good,That they are still the air, the subtle food,To make us feel existence, and to shewHow quiet death is.”

“For Poesy alone can tell her dreams, With the fine spell of words alone can save Imagination from the sable charm And dumb enchantment. Who alive can say, ‘Thou art no Poet may’st not tell thy dreams?’ Since every man whose soul is not a clod Hath visions, and would speak, if he had loved And been well nurtured in his mother tongue. Whether the dream now purpos’d to rehearse Be poet’s or fanatic’s will be known When this warm scribe my hand is in the grave.”