The Wind does — working like a Hand, / Whose fingers Comb the Sky — / Then quiver down — with tufts of Tune — / Permitted Gods, and me
"I have hid my feelings, fearing they should do me wrong;"
- “Locksley Hall,” Alfred, Lord Tennyson
There is nothing, Sir, too little for a creature as man. It is by studying little things that we attain the great art of having as little misery and as much happiness as possible.
Take it easy baby, it ain’t over yet.
But if any came near I would call, and shriek, / And adown the steep like a wave I would leap / From the diamond-ledges that jut from the dells;
- “The Mermaid,” Alfred, Lord Tennyson
The splendours of the firmament of time
May be eclipsed, but are extinguished not;
Like stars to their appointed height they climb,
And death is a low mist which cannot blot
The brightness it may veil. When lofty thought
Lifts a young heart above its mortal lair,
And love and life contend in it, for what
Shall be its earthly doom, the dead live there
And move like winds of light on dark and stormy air.
- “Adonais,” by Percy Bysshe Shelley