Poetry Is A Mirror Which

You Ought To Love All Mankind; Nay, Every Individual Of Mankind. You Ought Not To Love The Individuals Of Your Domestic Circles Less, But To Love Those Who Exist Beyond It More.

In Proportion As A Man Is Selfish, So Far Has He Receded From The Motive Which Constitutes Virtue.

I Have Been A Wanderer Among Distant Fields. I Have Sailed Down Mighty Rivers.

Dar'st Thou Amid The Varied Multitude To Live Alone, An Isolated Thing?

I Arise From Dreams Of Thee, And A Spirit In My Feet Has Led Me- Who Knows How? To Thy Chamber-window, Sweet!