. . . The Weal Of The

A Giant As We Hoped, In Truth, A Dwarf; A Barrel Of Slop That Shines On Lethe's Wharf', Which At First Seemed A Vessel With Sweet Wine For Thirsty Lips. So Down The Swift Decline You Went Through Sloven Spirit, Craven Heart And Cynic Indolence. And Here The Art Of Molding Clay Has Caught You For The Nonce And Made Your Shame Our Shame ~ Your Head In Bronze!

The Typical American? He Is Sent To School Little Or Much, Where He Imbibes The Rule Of Safety First And Comfort; In His Youth He Joins The Church And Ends The Quest Of Truth.

The Much-sought Prize Of Eternal Youth Is Just Arrested Growth.

Such Phantom Blossoms Palely Shining Over The Lifeless Boughs Of Time.

He Stripped Off The Armor Of Institutional Friendships To Dedictate His Soul To The Terrible Deities Of Truth And Beauty.