Beguiled the weary soul of man
Beneath the cold glare of the desolate night
Bent on the lofty ends of her destiny
Beset by agreeable hallucinations
Beset with smiling hills
Beside himself in an ecstasy of pleasure
Betokening an impulsive character
Beyond the farthest edge of night
Birds were fluting in the tulip-trees
Biting sentences flew about