E'en Sunday Shines No Sabbath Day To

Of Darkness Visible So Much Be Lent, As Half To Show, Half Veil, The Deep Intent.

Where'er You Walk Cool Gales Shall Fan The Glade, Trees Where You Sit Shall Crowd Into A Shade. Where'er You Tread The Blushing Flowers Shall Rise, And All Things Flourish Where You Turn Your Eyes.

Like Bubbles On The Sea Of Matter Borne, They Rise, They Break, And To That Sea Return.

Gentle Dullness Ever Loves A Joke.

Nay, Fly To Altars; There They'll Talk You Dead; For Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread.