And If I Laugh At Any Mortal

And The Commencement Of Atonement Is The Sense Of Its Necessity.

Thy Decay's Still Impregnate With Divinity.

Near This Spot Are Deposited The Remains Of One Who Possessed Beauty Without Vanity, Strength Without Insolence, Courage Without Ferocity, And All The Virtues Of Man, Without His Vices. This Praise, Which Would Be Unmeaning Flattery If Inscribed Over Human Ashes, Is But A Just Tribute To The Memory Of Botswain, A Dog.

Oh, Christ! It Is A Goodly Sight To See What Heaven Hath Done For This Delicious Land!

I Live Not In Myself, But I Become Portion Of That Around Me: And To Me High Mountains Are A Feeling, But The Hum Of Human Cities Torture.