“A cheerful life is what the Muses love, A soaring spirit is their prime delight.”

“What is a Poet? He is a man speaking to men: a man, it is true, endued with more lively sensibility, more enthusiasm and tenderness, who has a greater knowledge of human nature, and a more comprehensive soul, than are supposed to be common among mankind; a man pleased with his own passions and volitions, and who rejoices more than other men in the spirit of life that is in him; delighting to contemplate similar volitions and passions as manifested in the goings-on of the universe, and habitually impelled to create them where he does not find them.”

“Wisdom is oft-times nearer when we stoopThan when we soar.”

“He spake of love, such love as spirits feelIn worlds whose course is equable and pure: No fears to beat away - no strife to heal, The past unsighed for, and the future sure.”

“She Was A Phantom of DelightShe was a Phantom of delightWhen first she gleam'd upon my sight;A lovely Apparition, sentTo be a moment's ornament:Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;But all things else about her drawnFrom May-time and the cheerful dawn;A dancing shape, an image gay,To haunt, to startle, and waylay.I saw her upon nearer view,A Spirit, yet a Woman too!Her household motions light and free,And steps of virgin liberty;A countenance in which did meetSweet records, promises as sweet;A creature not too bright or goodFor human nature's daily food,For transient sorrows, simple wiles,Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.And now I see with eye sereneThe very pulse of the machine;A being breathing thoughtful breath,A traveller between life and death:The reason firm, the temperate will,Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;A perfect Woman, nobly plann'dTo warn, to comfort, and command;And yet a Spirit still, and brightWith something of an angel light.”

“Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.”

“She was a Phantom of delightWhen first she gleam'd upon my sight;A lovely Apparition, sentTo be a moment's ornament:Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;But all things else about her drawnFrom May-time and the cheerful dawn;A dancing shape, an image gay,To haunt, to startle, and waylay.”