Beauty Is Truth, Truth Beauty

My Imagination Is A Monastery And I Am Its Monk.

I Am Sailing With Thee Through The Dizzy Sky! How Beautiful Thou Art!

It Is A Flaw In Happiness To See Beyond Our Bourn, - It Forces Us In Summer Skies To Mourn, It Spoils The Singing Of The Nightingale.

Dancing Music, Music Sad, Both Together, Sane And Mad.

... For, By All The Stars That Tend Thy Bidding, I Do Think The Bars That Kept My Spirit In Are Burst - That I Am Sailing With Thee Through The Dizzy Sky! How Beautiful Thou Art!