Time Is A Blooming Field: Nature Is

Truth Exists For The Wise, Beauty For The Feeling Heart.

In The Case Of A Creative Mind, It Seems To Me, The Intellect Has Withdrawn Its Watchers From The Gates, And The Ideas Rush In Pell-mell And Only Then Does It Review And Inspect The Multitudes.

Satisfy A Few To Please Many Is Bad.

Why Should I Deem Myself To Be A Chisel, When I Could Be The Artist?

Without A Home Must The Soldier Go, A Changeful Wanderer, And Can Warm Himself At No Home-lit Hearth.