“...and in thy voice I catch the language of my former heart, and read my former pleasures in the shooting lights of thy wild eyes.”

“Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.”

“If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven,Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light,Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content: --The stars pre-eminent in magnitude,And they that from the zenith dart their beams,(Visible though they be to half the earth,Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness)Are yet of no diviner origin,No purer essence, than the one that burns,Like an untended watch-fire on the ridgeOf some dark mountain; or than those which seemHumbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps,Among the branches of the leafless trees.All are the undying offspring of one Sire:Then, to the measure of the light vouchsafed,Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content.”

“Then my heart with pleasure fillsAnd dances with the daffodils.”

“Therefore, let the moon shine on thee in thy solitary walk; And let the misty-mountain winds be free to blow against thee.”

“I can again thy former light restore,Should I repent me: but once put out thy light,Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,I know not where is that Promethean heatThat can thy light relume.”

“Here must thou be, O man,Strength to thyself — no helper hast thou here —Here keepest thou thy individual state:No other can divide with thee this work,No secondary hand can interveneTo fashion this ability. 'Tis thine,The prime and vital principle is thineIn the recesses of thy nature, farFrom any reach of outward fellowship,Else 'tis not thine at all.”