To one who has been long in city pent, ’Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven. - John Keats

O that our dreamings all, of sleep or wake,
Would all their colours from the sunset take:
From something of material sublime,
Rather than shadow our own soul's day-time
In the dark void of night. For in the world
We jostle, - but my flag is not unfurl'd...

Open wide the mind's cage-door,
She'll dart forth, and cloudward soar.

"There is an old saying "well begun is half done" - 'tis a bad one. I would use instead, "Not begun at all till half done;" so according to that I have not begun my Poem and consequently (a priori) can say nothing about it."