"Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by? — -"On death - John Keats

No one can usurp the heights...
But those to whom the miseries of the world
Are misery, and will not let them rest.

I am certain I have not a right feeling towards women - at this moment I am striving to be just to them, but I cannot. Is it because they fall so far beneath my boyish imagination? When I was a schoolboy I thought a fair woman a pure Goddess; my mind was a soft nest in which some one of them slept, though she knew it not.

I bade good morrow,
And thought to leave her far away behind;
But cheerly, cheerly,
She loves me dearly;
She is so constant to me, and so kind.

- To Sorrow