The Paths Of Glory Lead But To

They Hear A Voice In Every Wind, And Snatch A Fearful Joy.

The Different Steps And Degrees Of Education May Be Compared To The Artificer's Operations Upon Marble; It Is One Thing To Dig It Out Of The Quarry, And Another To Square It, To Give It Gloss And Lustre, Call Forth Every Beautiful Spot And Vein, Shape It Into A Column, Or Animate It Into A Statue.

He Pass'd The Flaming Bounds Of Place And Time: The Living Throne, The Sapphire Blaze, Where Angels Tremble While They Gaze, He Saw; But Blasted With Excess Of Light, Closed His Eyes In Endless Night.

The Insect-youth Are On The Wing, Eager To Taste The Honied Spring, And Float Amid The Liquid Noon!

O'er Her Warm Cheek, And Rising Bosom, Move The Bloom Of Young Desire And Purple Light Of Love.