Dancing Music, Music Sad, Both

The Genius Of Poetry Must Work Out Its Own Salvation In A Man; It Cannot Be Matured By Law And Precept, But By Sensation And Watchfulness In Itself. That Which Is Creative Must Create Itself - In Endymion, I Leaped Headlong Into The Sea, And Thereby Have Become Better Acquainted With The Soundings, The Quicksands, And The Rocks, Than If I Had Stayed Upon The Green Shore, And Piped A Silly Pipe, And Took Tea And Comfortable Sdvice.

O Let Me Lead Her Gently O'er The Brook, Watch Her Half-smiling Lips And Downward Look; O Let Me For One Moment Touch Her Wrist; Let Me One Moment To Her Breathing List; And As She Leaves Me, May She Often Turn Her Fair Eyes Looking Through Her Locks Auburne.

I Stood Tip-toe Upon A Little Hill, The Air Was Cooling, And So Very Still, That The Sweet Buds Which With A Modest Pride Pull Droopingly, In Slanting Curve Aside, Their Scantly Leaved, And Finely Tapering Stems, Had Not Yet Lost Those Starry Diadems Caught From The Early Sobbing Of The Morn.

Some Say The World Is A Vale Of Tears, I Say It Is A Place Of Soul-making.

Real Are The Dreams Of Gods, And Smoothly Pass Their Pleasures In A Long Immortal Dream.