All as that moth call'd Underwing, alighted,
Pacing and turning, so by slips discloses
Her sober simple coverlid underplighted┬░
To colour as smooth and fresh as cheeks of roses,
Her showy leaves staid watchet counterfoiling
Her showy leaves with gentle watchet foiling
Even so my thought the rose and grey disposes

Proved Etherege prudish, selfish, hypocrite, heartless,
No scholar, a would be critic, a dillentante ,
Cream-laid, a surface, who could quote, to startle us,
The Anatomy , Politian, a little Dante, —
And so forth. Then for his looks — like pinkish paper:
Features? A watermark; other claims as scanty.
In such wise did the gentle . . . vapour.

On fields oer which the reaper's hand has passed,
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
There after harvest could I glean my life
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze.

Late I fell in the ecstacy
And saw the men before the flood┬░
Which once were disobedient

O king, if you make an end of me, a lawful person
and a doer of utterly no harm to man, you easily take away
one of the wisest of heads, but later you will perceive
just as before; surely at last, you will grieve vainly and exceedingly
because you have destroyed such a greatly renowned bulwark from out of the city.

— Hill,
Heaven and every field, are still
As a self-embraced sweet thought:
— - — -caress'd — — — — :
And the thin stars tremble not.
— — lessen'd stars ray — .

Where'er I find the Good, the True, the Fair,
I ask no names — God's spirit dwelleth there!
The unconfounded, undivided Three,
Each for itself, and all in each, to see
In man and Nature, is Philosophy.
[1822. From MS]

Offended by a sportive observation that women have no souls

Nay, dearest Anna! why so grave?
I said, you had no soul, 'tis true!
For what you are, you cannot have:
'Tis I, that have one since I first had you!
[1811-12]

Our royal king and queen, God bless,
The Palsgrave and the Lady Bess;
God bless Pembroke, and the state,
And Buckingham the fortunate;
God bless the council and keep them safe
And God bless me, and God bless Rafe.

As when the new or full moon urges
The high, long, large, unbreaking surges
Of the pacific Main.
[1811. From MS]