That though the radiance which was once so bright be now forever taken from my sight. Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower. We will grieve not, rather find strength in what remains behind.

One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.

The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.

Poetry is the first and last of all knowledge - it is as immortal as the heart of man.

Faith is a passionate intuition.

A simple child. That lightly draws its breath. And feels its life in every limb. What should it know of death?