He Who Shall Teach The Child To

Exuberance Is Beauty.

Art Is The Tree Of Life. Science Is The Tree Of Death.

There Is A Place Where Contrarieties Are Equally True.

And I Made A Rural Pen, And I Stained The Water Clear, And I Wrote My Happy Songs Every Child May Joy To Hear.

How Have You Left The Ancient Love That Bards Of Old Enjoyed In You! The Languid Strings Do Scarcely Move! The Sound Is Forced, The Notes Are Few!