The Miller Believes That All The Wheat

Nature! We Live In Her Midst And Know Her Not. She Is Incessantly Speaking To Us, But Betrays Not Her Secret. We Constantly Act Upon Her, And Yet Have No Power Over Her. Variant: Nature! We Are Surrounded And Embraced By Her: Powerless To Separate Ourselves From Her, And Powerless To Penetrate Beyond Her.

Know'st Thou Yesterday, Its Aim And Reason? Work'st Thou Will Today For Worthier Things? Then Calmly Wait The Morrow's Hidden Season, And Fear Thou Not, What Hap Soe'er It Brings

The Angles Even Draw Strength From Gazing On Its Glance, Though None Its Meaning Fathom May; The World's Unwither'd Countenance Is Bright As At Creation's Day.

Error Is Acceptable As Long As We Are Young; But One Must Not Drag It Along Into Old Age.

There Is Nothing In Life So Irrational, That Good Sense And Chance May Not Set It To Rights; Nothing So Rational, That Folly And Chance May Not Utterly Confound It.