“A deep distress hath humanised my soul.”

“Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,Hath had elsewhere its setting,And cometh from afar:Not in entire forgetfulness,And not in utter nakedness,But trailing clouds of glory do we come”

“Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know that pride,Howe'er disguised in its own majesty,Is littleness; that he, who feels contemptFor any living thing, hath facultiesWhich he has never used; that thought with himIs in its infancy...”

“With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.”

“Surprised by joy—impatient as the WindI turned to share the transport—Oh! with whomBut thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,That spot which no vicissitude can find?Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind—But how could I forget thee? Through what power,Even for the least division of an hour,Have I been so beguiled as to be blindTo my most grievous loss!—That thought's returnWas the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;That neither present time, nor years unbornCould to my sight that heavenly face restore.”

“Hence, in a season of calm weatherThough inland far we be,Our souls have sight of that immortal sea”

“Though inland far we be,Our souls have sight of that immortal seaWhich brought us hither.”