As We Are, So We See.

Excessive Sorrow Laughs. Excessive Joy Weeps.

But To Go To School In A Summer Morn, O! It Drives All Joy Away; Under A Cruel Eye Outworn, The Little Ones Spend The Day In Sighing And Dismay.

Art Degraded, Imagination Denied.

Joy And Woe Are Woven Fine, A Clothing For The Soul Divine. Under Every Grief And Pine Runs A Joy With Silken Twine.

Execution Is The Chariot Of Genius.