I Have Loved The Principle Of Beauty

Land And Sea, Weakness And Decline Are Great Separators, But Death Is The Great Divorcer For Ever.

O For Ten Years, That I May Overwhelm / Myself In Poesy; So I May Do The Deed / That My Own Soul Has To Itself Decreed.

I Scarcely Remember Counting Upon Happiness—i Look Not For It If It Be Not In The Present Hour—nothing Startles Me Beyond The Moment. The Setting Sun Will Always Set Me To Rights, Or If A Sparrow Come Before My Window I Take Part In Its Existence And Pick About The Gravel.

Give Me Women, Wine And Snuff Until I Cry Out 'hold, Enough!' You May Do So San Objection Till The Day Of Resurrection; For Bless My Beard Then Aye Shall Be My Beloved Trinity.

Bards Of Passion And Of Mirth, Ye Have Left Your Souls On Earth! Have Ye Souls In Heaven Too, Double-lived In Regions New?