So Will I Build My Altar In

He Knows Well The Evening Star, And Once When He Awoke, In A Most Distressful Mood (some Inward Pain Had Made Up That Strange Thing, An Infant's Dream), I Hurried With Him To Our Orchard Plot, And He Beheld The Moon, And Hushed At Once. Suspends His Sobs And Laughs Most Silently. While His Fair Eyes, That Swam With Undropped Tears, Did Glitter In The Yellow Moonbeam.

Sublimity Is Hebrew By Birth.

What! Did Sir W[alter] R[aleigh] Believe That A Male And Female Ounce (and, If So, Why Not Two Tigers And Lions, Etc?) Would Have Produced, In A Course Of Generations, A Cat, Or A Cat A Lion? This Is Darwinizing With A Vengeance.

Nothing Great Was Ever Achieved Without Enthusiasm. For What Is Enthusiasm But The Oblivion And Swallowing-up Of Self In An Object Dearer Than Self?

A Falsehood Is, In One Sense, A Dead Thing; But Too Often It Moves About, Galvanized By Self-will, And Pushes The Living Out Of Their Seats.