Poets Are The Unacknowledged Legislators Of The

The Cloud Of Mind Is Discharging Its Collected Lightning.

Sometimes The Devil Is A Gentleman.

Fame, Power, And Gold, Are Loved For Their Own Sakes - Are Worshipped With A Blind, Habitual Idolatry.

Oh, That The Wise From Their Bright Minds Would Kindle Such Lamps Within The Dome Of This Dim World That The Pale Name Of Priest Might Shrink And Dwindle Into The Hell From Which It First Was Furled.

Duty And Dereliction Guide Thee Back To Solitude.