In A Fleshly Tomb, I Am Buried

The Spirit Breathes Upon The Word And Brings The Truth To Sight.

Manner Is All In All, Whate'er Is Writ,the Substitute For Genius, Sense, And Wit.

Spring Hangs Her Infant Blossoms On The Trees, Rock'd In The Cradle Of The Western Breeze.

Necessity Invented Stools, Convenience Next Suggested Elbow-chairs, And Luxury The Accomplish'd Sofa Last.

How Fleet Is A Glance Of The Mind! Compared With The Speed Of Its Flight, The Tempest Itself Lags Behind, And The Swift-winged Arrows Of Light.