Knowledge Enormous Makes A God Of Me.

To Sorrow I Bade Good-morrow, And Thought To Leave Her Far Away Behind; But Cheerly, Cheerly, She Loves Me Dearly: She Is So Constant To Me, And So Kind.

The Redbreast Whistles From A Garden-croft; And Gathering Swallows Twitter In The Skies.

A Little Noiseless Noise Among The Leaves, Born Of The Very Sigh That Silence Heaves.

My Imagination Is A Monastery And I Am Its Monk.

His Old Right Hand Lay Nerveless, Listless, Dead, Unsceptred; And His Realmless Eyes Were Closed.