“The same that oft-times hath charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam of perilous seas, in fairy lands forlorn.”

“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.”

“Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.”

“The open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.”

“Life is but a day;A fragile dew-drop on its perilous wayFrom a tree’s summit.”

“Like a mermaid in sea-weed, she dreams awake, trembling in her soft and chilly nest.”

“X.I saw pale kings and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried—“La Belle Dame sans Merci Hath thee in thrall!” XI.I saw their starved lips in the gloam, With horrid warning gaped wide, And I awoke and found me here, On the cold hill’s side. XII.And this is why I sojourn here, Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is wither’d from the lake, And no birds sing.”