What Are Ye Orbs? The Words Of

I Run The Gauntlet Of A File Of Doubts, Each One Of Which Down Hurls Me To The Ground.

Love Spends His All, And Still Hath Store.

Obey Thy Genius, For A Minister It Is Unto The Throne Of Fate. Draw To Thy Soul, And Centralize The Rays Which Are Around Of The Divinity.

My Favoured Temple Is An Humble Heart.

For As Nightingales Do Upon Glow-worms Feed, So Poets Live Upon The Living Light.