The poetical language of an age should be the current language heightened.
Where lies your landmark, seamark, or soul's star?
It is the blight man was born for. It is Margaret you mourn for.
The Best ideal is the true and other truth is none. All glory be ascribed to the holy Three in One.
Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear,...
No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillionShine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear, Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.
O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fallFrightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed.
Religion, you know, enters very deep; in reality it is the deepest impression I have in speaking to people, that they are or that they are not of my religion.
Beauty is a relation, and the apprehension of it a comparison.
Let Him easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness of us, be a crimson-cresseted east.
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It is a happy thing that there is no royal road to poetry. The world should know by this time that one cannot reach Parnassus except by flying thither.