Their Woes Gone By, And

I Have Loved The Principle Of Beauty In All Things.

The Thought, The Deadly Thought Of Solitude.

O Solitude! If I Must With Thee Dwell, Let It Not Be Among The Jumbled Heap Of Murky Buildings

With A Great Poet The Sense Of Beauty Overcomes Every Other Consideration, Or Rather Obliterates All Consideration.

They Swayed About Upon A Rocking Horse, And Thought It Pegasus.