Because Thou Must Not Dream, Thou Need

Ah! Two Desires Toss About The Poet's Feverish Blood; One Drives Him To The World Without, And One To Solitude.

Wandering Between Two Worlds, One Dead, The Other Powerless To Be Born.

The Future Of Poetry Is Immense, Because In Poetry, Where It Is Worthy Of Its High Destinies, Our Race, As Time Goes On, Will Find An Ever Surer And Surer Stay ... More And More Mankind Will Discover That We Have To Turn To Poetry To Interpret Life For Us, To Console Us, To Sustain Us.

God's Wisdom And God's Goodness!--ah, But Fools Mis-define Thee, Till God Knows Them No More. Wisdom And Goodness They Are God!--what Schools Have Yet So Much As Heard This Simpler Lore. This No Saint Preaches, And This No Church Rules: 'tis In The Desert, Now And Heretofore.

But Thou, My Son, Study To Make Prevail One Colour In Thy Life, The Hue Of Truth.