And you must love him, ere to youHe will seem worthy of your love.

The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, An appetite; a feeling and a love that had no need of a remoter charm by thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.

A Briton even in love should be A subject, not a slave!

But how can he expect that others should Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?