I Find I Cannot Exist Without Poetry

Pleasure Is Oft A Visitant; But Pain Clings Cruelly To Us.

Faded The Flower And All Its Budded Charms,faded The Sight Of Beauty From My Eyes,faded The Shape Of Beauty From My Arms,faded The Voice, Warmth, Whiteness, Paradise!vanishd Unseasonably

Much Have I Travell'd In The Realms Of Gold.

Sweet Are The Pleasures That To Verse Belong, And Doubly Sweet A Brotherhood In Song.

When It Is Moving On Luxurious Wings, The Soul Is Lost In Pleasant Smotherings.