And Of Poetry, The Success Is Not

The Eye Is The Painter And The Ear The Singer.

Beauty Is The Pilot Of The Young Soul.

How Casually And Unobservedly We Make All Our Most Valued Acquaintances.

Love Should Make Joy; But Our Benevolence Is Unhappy. Our Sunday-schools, And Churches, And Pauper-societies Are Yokes To The Neck. We Pain Ourselves To Please Nobody.

As Every Pool Reflects The Image Of The Sun, So Every Thought And Thing Restores Us An Image And Creature Of The Supreme Good. Theuniverse Is Perforated By A Million Channels For His Activity. All Things Mount And Mount.