Authors Must Not, Like Chinese Soldiers, Expect

Every Great Poem Is In Itself Limited By Necessity, But In Its Suggestions Unlimited And Infinite.

Beautiful In Form And Feature, Lovely As The Day, Can There Be So Fair A Creature Formed Of Common Clay?

Gone Are The Birds That Were Our Summer Guests.

The Spirit-world Around This World Of Sense Floats Like An Atmosphere, And Everywhere Wafts Through These Earthly Mists And Vapours Dense A Vital Breath Of More Ethereal Air.

The Talent Of Success Is Nothing More Than Doing What You Can Do, Well.