God Is The Perfect Poet.

How Strange Now, Looks The Life He Makes Us Lead; So Free We Seem, So Fettered Fast We Are!

Talent Should Minister To Genius.

What? Was Man Made A Wheel-work To Wind Up, And Be Discharged, And Straight Wound Up Anew? No! Grown, His Growth Lasts; Taught, He Ne'er Forgets: May Learn A Thousand Things, Not Twice The Same.

From The Sprinkled Isles, Lily On Lily, That O'erlace The Sea.

To Do Good Things In The World, First You Must Know Who You Are And What Gives Meaning To Your Life.