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

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a musèd rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!

Through buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams
The summer time away.

I have had a thousand kisses, for which with my whole soul I thank love — but if you should deny me the thousand and first — ‘t would put me to the proof how great a misery I could live through.