Thou Lump Of Foul Deformity!

Wilt Thou Whip Thine Own Faults In Other Men?

It Easeth Some, Though None It Ever Cured, To Think Their Dolour Others Have Endured.

Love Asks Me No Questions, And Gives Me Endless Support.

One Fairer Than My Love? The All-seeing Sun Ne'er Saw Her Match Since First The World Begun.

The Poet's Eye, In A Fine Frenzy Rolling, Doth Glance From Heaven To Earth, From Earth To Heaven; And As Imagination Bodies Forth The Forms Of Things Unknown, The Poet's Pen Turns Them To Shape, And Gives To Airy Nothing A Local Habitation And A Name; Such Tricks Hath Strong Imagination.