Even Victors Are By Victories Undone.

Thus, While The Mute Creation Downward Bend Their Sight, And To Their Earthly Mother Ten, Man Looks Aloft; And With Erected Eyes Beholds His Own Hereditary Skies.

The Perverseness Of My Fate Is Such That He's Not Mine Because He's Mine Too Much.

Farewell, Too Little, And Too Lately Known, Whom I Began To Think And Call My Own.

One Of The Greatest, Most Noble, And Most Sublime Poems Which Either This Age Or Nation Has Produced.

When We View Elevated Ideas Of Nature, The Result Of That View Is Admiration, Which Is Always The Cause Of Pleasure.