He Who Sees The Infinite In All

When My Mother Died I Was Very Young, And My Father Sold Me While Yet My Tongue Could Scarcely Cry Weep Weep Weep Weep. So Your Chimneys I Sweep, And In Soot I Sleep.

Painters Are Noted For Being Dissipated And Wild.

The Generations Of Men Run On In The Tide Of Time, But Leave Their Destined Lineaments Permanent For Ever And Ever.

When The Sun Rises, Do You Not See A Round Disc Of Fire Somewhat Like A Guinea? O No, No, I See An Innumerable Company Of The Heavenly Host Crying Holy, Holy, Holy Is The Lord God Almighty.

I Have Conversed With The Spiritual Sun. I Saw Him On Primrose Hill