...vain; Nor when the spirit's self has ceased to burn, With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn . . . He is made one with Nature: there is heard His voice...thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird; He is a presence to be felt and known In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Spreading itself where'er...

...Keats lies "in dewy sleep" or turns into a "herd-abandoned deer struck by the hunter's dart." Or else he "is a portion of the loveliness / Which once he made more lovely," a "frail Form, / A phantom among men; companionless / As the last cloud of an expiring storm." Or "His...