“Tall oaks branch charmed by the earnest stars Dream and so dream all night without a stir.”

“This living hand, now warm and capableOf earnest grasping, would, if it were coldAnd in the icy silence of the tomb,So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nightsThat thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood,So in my veins red life might stream again,And thou be conscience-calm'd. See, here it is--I hold it towards you.”

“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.”

“O that our dreamings all, of sleep or wake,Would all their colours from the sunset take:From something of material sublime,Rather than shadow our own soul's day-timeIn the dark void of night. For in the worldWe jostle, - but my flag is not unfurl'd...”

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

“Thou art a dreaming thing,A fever of thyself.”

“The imagination may be compared to adams dream. He awoke and found it truth.”