He Who Replies To Words Of Doubt

What Is Grand Is Necessarily Obscure To Weak Men. That Which Can Be Made Explicit To The Idiot Is Not Worth My Care.

The Ruins Of Time Build Mansions In Eternity.

My Silks And Fine Array, My Smiles And Languished Air, By Love Are Driv'n Away And Mournful Lean Despair Brings Me Yew To Deck My Grave: Such End True Lovers Have.

Mock On, Mock On, Voltaire, Rousseau! Mock On, Mock On: 'tis All In Vain! You Throw The Sand Against The Wind, And The Wind Blows It Back Again. And Every Sand Becomes A Gem Reflected In The Beams Divine; Blown Back They Blind The Mocking Eye, But Still In Israel's Paths They Shine. The Atoms Of Democritus And Newton's Particles Of Light Are Sands Upon The Red Sea Shore, Where Israel's Tents Do Shine So Bright.

I Thought Love Lived In The Hot Sunshine, But O, He Lives In The Moony Light! I Thought To Find Love In The Heat Of Day, But Sweet Love Is The Comforter Of Night.