Miracles Do Not Happen.

The Sea Of Faith Was Once, Too, At The Full, And Round Earth's Shore Lay Like The Folds Of A Bright Girdle Furled. But Now I Only Hear Its Melancholy, Long, Withdrawing Roar, Retreating, To The Breath Of The Night-wind, Down The Vast Edges Drear And Naked Shingles Of The World.

Children Of Men! The Unseen Power, Whose Eye Forever Doth Accompany Mankind, Hath Look'd On No Religion Scornfully That Men Did Ever Find.

The True Meaning Of Religion Is Thus Not Simply Morality, But Morality Touched By Emotion.

Too Quick Despairer, Wherefore Wilt Thou Go? Soon Will The High Midsummer Pomps Come On, Soon Will The Musk Carnations Break And Swell.

Culture Is The Passion For Sweetness And Light, And (what Is More) The Passion For Making Them Prevail.