God Is The Poetic Genius In Each

Better To Shun The Bait Than Struggle In The Snare.

Everything To Be Imagined Is An Image Of Truth.

O Earth, O Earth, Return! Arise From Out The Dewy Grass; Night Is Worn; And The Morn Rises From The Slumbrous Mass.

How Can A Bird That Is Born For Joy Sit In A Cage And Sing?

The Little Ones Leaped, And Shouted, And Laugh'd And All The Hills Echoed