As Kingfishers Catch Fire, Dragonflies Draw Flame

The World Is Charged With The Grandeur Of God. It Will Flame Out Like Shining From Shook Foil? Generations Have Trod, Have Trod, Have Trod; And All Is Seared With Trade; Bleared, Smeared With Toil; And Wearsman'ssmudgeand Sharesman'ssmell: Thesoil Is Bare Now, Nor Can Foot Feel, Being Shod.

I Can Scarcely Fancy Myself To Ask A Superior To Publish A Volume Of My Verse And I Own That Humanly There Is Very Little Likelihood Of That Ever Coming To Pass. And To Be Sure If I Chose To Look At Things On One Side And Not The Other I Could Of Course Regret This Bitterly. But There Is More Peace And It Isthe Holier Lot To Be Unknown Than To Be Known.

No Wonder Of It: Sheer Plod Makes Plough Down Sillion Shine, And Blue-bleak Embers, Ah My Dear, Fall, Gall Themselves, And Gash Gold-vermilion.

Nothing Is So Beautiful As Spring - When Weeds, In Wheels, Shoot Long And Lovely And Lush; Thrush's Eggs Look Little Low Heavens, And Thrush Through The Echoing Timber Does So Rinse And Wring The Ear, It Strikes Like Lightning To Hear Him Sing.

O The Mind, Mind Has Mountains; Cliffs Of Fall Frightful, Sheer, No-man-fathomed.