Among The Blind The One-eyed Blinkard Reigns

And All The Way, To Guide Their Chime, With Falling Oars They Kept Their Time.

See How The Orient Dew, Shed From The Bosom Of The Morn Into The Blowing Roses, Yet Careless Of Its Mansion New; For The Clear Region Where 'twas Born Round In Its Self Encloses: And In Its Little Globes Extent, Frames As It Can Its Native Element.

And Yonder All Before Us Lie Deserts Of Vast Eternity.

The World In All Doth But Two Nations Bear- The Good, The Bad; And These Mixed Everywhere.

But At My Back I Always Hear Time's Winged Chariot Hurrying Near.