But Let Me See Thee Stoop From

Now A Soft Kiss - Aye, By That Kiss, I Vow An Endless Bliss.

I Have Two Luxuries To Brood Over In My Walks, Your Loveliness And The Hour Of My Death. O That I Could Have Possession Of Them Both In The Same Minute.

X. I Saw Pale Kings And Princes Too, Pale Warriors, Death-pale Were They All; They Cried—“la Belle Dame Sans Merci Hath Thee In Thrall!” Xi. I Saw Their Starved Lips In The Gloam, With Horrid Warning Gaped Wide, And I Awoke And Found Me Here, On The Cold Hill’s Side. Xii. And This Is Why I Sojourn Here, Alone And Palely Loitering, Though The Sedge Is Wither’d From The Lake, And No Birds Sing.

Call The World If You Please "the Vale Of Soul-making." Then You Will Find Out The Use Of The World.

The Grandeur Of The Dooms We Have Imagined For The Mighty Dead.