The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations Preface

‘The Eve of St Agnes’ (1820) st. 27
And still she slept an azure-lidded sleep,
In blanchéd linen, smooth, and lavendered,
While he from forth the closet brought a heap
Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd;
With jellies soother than the creamy curd,
And lucent syrops, tinct with cinnamon;
Manna and dates, in argosy transferred
From Fez; and spiced dainties, every one,
From silken Samarcand to cedared Lebanon.
‘The Eve of St Agnes’ (1820) st. 30
He played an ancient ditty, long since mute,
In Provence called, ‘La belle dame sans mercy.’
‘The Eve of St Agnes’ (1820) st. 33
And the long carpets rose along the gusty floor.
‘The Eve of St Agnes’ (1820) st. 40
And they are gone: aye, ages long ago
These lovers fled away into the storm.
‘The Eve of St Agnes’ (1820) st. 42
The Beadsman, after thousand aves told,
For aye unsought for slept among his ashes cold.
‘The Eve of St Agnes’ (1820) st. 42
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weave
A paradise for a sect.
‘The Fall of Hyperion’ (written 1819) l. 1
‘None can usurp this height,’ returned that shade,
‘But those to whom the miseries of the world
Are misery, and will not let them rest.’
‘The Fall of Hyperion’ (written 1819) l. 147
The poet and the dreamer are distinct,
Diverse, sheer opposite, antipodes.
The one pours out a balm upon the world,
The other vexes it.
‘The Fall of Hyperion’ (written 1819) l. 199
Ever let the fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home.
‘Fancy’ (1820) l. 1
O sweet Fancy! let her loose;
Summer’s joys are spoilt by use.
‘Fancy’ (1820) l. 9