O The Mind, Mind Has Mountains; Cliffs

It Kills Me To Be Time's Eunuch And Never To Beget.

It Seems Then That It Is Not The Excellence Of Any Two Things (or More) In Themselves, But Those Two Things As Viewed By The Light Of Each Other, That Makes Beauty.

I Think That The Trivialness Of Life Is, And Personally To Each One, Ought To Be Seen To Be, Done Away With By The Incarnation.

The World Is Charged With The Grandeur Of God. It Will Flame Out Like Shining From Shook Foil? Generations Have Trod, Have Trod, Have Trod; And All Is Seared With Trade; Bleared, Smeared With Toil; And Wearsman'ssmudgeand Sharesman'ssmell: Thesoil Is Bare Now, Nor Can Foot Feel, Being Shod.

Nothing Is So Beautiful As Spring- When Weeds In Wheels, Shoot Long And Lovely And Lush.