The Most Sublime Act Is To Set

On No Other Ground Can I Sow My Seed Without Tearing Up Some Stinking Weed.

A Dog Starv'd At The Master's Gate Predicts The Ruin Of The State. A Horse Misus'd Upon The Road Calls To Heaven For Human Blood. Each Outcry Of The Hunted Hare A Fibre From The Brain Does Tear, A Skylark Wounded On The Wing, A Cherubim Does Cease To Sing.

God Is The Poetic Genius In Each Of Us.

Nothing Is Real Beyond Imaginative Patterns Men Make Of Reality.

The Pure Soul Shall Mount On Native Wings, . . . And Cut A Path Into The Heaven Of Glory.