Where is the land of Luthany,Where is the tract of Elenore?I am bound therefore.'Pierce thy heart to find the key;With thee takeOnly what none else would keep;Learn to dream when thou dost wake;Learn...
Summer set lip to earth's bosom bare, and left the flushed print in a poppy there.
All things by immortal power. Near of far, to each other linked are, that thou canst not stir a flower without troubling of a star.
What you theoretically know vividly realize.
Nothing begins and nothing ends That is not paid with moan For we are born in others' pain And perish in our own.
In all change well looked into the germinal good out-vails the apparent ill.