Lips Like Rosebuds Peeping Out Of Snow.

Art Is A Man's Nature; Nature Is God's Art.

Burn To Be Great, Pay Not Thy Praise To Lofty Things Alone. The Plains Are Everlasting As The Hills, The Bard Cannot Have Two Pursuits; Aught Else Comes On The Mind With The Like Shock As Though Two Worlds Had Gone To War, And Met In Air.

The Hero Is The World-man, In Whose Heart One Passion Stands For All, The Most Indulged.

The World Is A Great Poem, And The World's The Words It Is Writ In, And We Souls The Thoughts.

Death Is Another Life.