The secret of architectural excellence is to translate the proportions of a dachshund into bricks$$$ mortar and marble.

Our first computers were born not out of greed or ego$$$ but in the revolutionary spirit of helping common people rise above the most powerful institutions.

Such seem'd this Man$$$ not all alive nor dead$$$ <br>Nor all asleep; in his extreme old age: <br>His body was bent double$$$ feet and head <br>Coming together in their pilgrimage; <br>As if some dire constraint of pain$$$ or rage <br>Of sickness felt by him in times long past$$$ <br>A more than human weight upon his frame had cast.

All things that love the sun are out of doors;<br>The sky rejoices in the morning's birth;<br>The grass is bright with rain-drops;on the moors<br>The hare is running races in her mirth;<br>And with her feet she from the plashy earth<br>Raises a mist$$$ that$$$ glittering in the sun$$$<br>Runs with her all the way$$$ wherever she doth run.

A cheerful life is what the Muses love$$$ <br>A soaring spirit is their prime delight.

And I was taught to feel$$$ perhaps too much$$$<br>The self-sufficing power of solitude.

One Lesson$$$ Shepherd$$$ let us two divide$$$<br>Taught both by what she shews$$$ and what conceals$$$<br>Never to blend our pleasure or our pride<br>With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.

My gentle Reader$$$ I perceive<br>How patiently you've waited$$$<br>And now I fear that you expect<br>Some tale will be related.<br>O Reader! had you in your mind<br>Such stores as silent thought can bring$$$<br>O gentle Reader! you would find<br>A tale in every thing.

I'll teach my boy the sweetest things;<br>I'll teach him how the owlet sings.

In sleep I heard the northern gleams;<br>The stars they were among my dreams;<br>In sleep did I behold the skies.