I Have Mental Joys And

Since All The Riches Of This World May Be Gifts From The Devil And Earthly Kings, I Should Suspect That I Worshipp'd The Devil If I Thank'd My God For Worldly Things.

For I Dance And Drink And Sing, Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing. If Thought Is Life And Strength And Breath And The Want Of Thought Is Death Then Am I A Happy Fly If I Live Or If I Die

Nature Has No Outline. Imagination Has.

The Look Of Love Alarms Because 'tis Filled With Fire; But The Look Of Soft Deceit Shall Win The Lover's Hire.

England! Awake! Awake! Awake! Jerusalem Thy Sister Calls! Why Wilt Thou Sleep The Sleep Of Death And Close Her From Thy Ancient Walls?