Man Is The Nobler Growth Our Realms

Man Is The Nobler Growth Our Realms Supply, And Souls Are Ripened In Our Northern Sky.

Eternity.—thy Name Or Glad, Or Fearful, We Pronounce, As Thoughts Wandering In Darkness Shape Thee. Thou Strange Being, Which Art And Must Be, Yet Which Contradict'st All Sense, All Reasoning,—thou, Who Never Wast Less Than Thyself, And Who Still Art Thyself Entire, Though The Deep Draught Which Time Has Taken Equals Thy Present Store—no Line Can Reach To Thy Unfathomed Depths. The Reasoning Sage Who Can Dissect A Sunbeam, Count The Stars, And Measure Distant Worlds, Is Here A Child, And, Humbled, Drops His Calculating Pen.

There Is A Land, Where The Roses Are Without Thorns, Where The Flowers Are Not Mixed With Brambles. In That Land, There Is Eternal Spring, And Light Without Any Cloud. The Tree Of Life Groweth In The Midst Thereof; Rivers Of Pleasures Are There, And Flowers That Never Fade. Myriads Of Happy Spirits Are There, And Surround The Throne Of God With A Perpetual Hymn. The Angels With Their Golden Harps Sing Praises Continually, And The Cherubim Fly On Wings Of Fire! This Country Is Heaven.

Englishmen Are Said To Love Their Laws; - That Is The Reason, I Suppose, They Give Us So Many Of Them, And In Different Editions.

You Speak Of Beginning The Education Of Your Son. The Moment He Was Able To Form An Idea His Education Was Already Begun. . . .