I can not pick each

I rise

And broke world's all the past records in atrocities

And dances with the daffodils

And happy melodist unwearied

For passion 'neath th' sparkle by th' midnoon sun

No one is sure

From rest and sleep which but thy pictures be

But not an event

Of deities or mortals or of both

Thou quiet frame dost coax us out of idea

Stand in the desert Near them on the sand

That leaves a heart highsorrowful and cloy'd

Could frame thy fearful symmetry

Two roads diverged in a wood and I

Shall I examine thee to a summer times day

first kiss beneath the moon