Mystery Is Truth's Dancing Partner.

Let Us Not Dream That Reason Can Ever Be Popular. Passions, Emotions, May Be Made Popular; But Reason Remains Ever The Property Of An Elect Few.

A King There Was Once Reigning, Who Had A Goodly Flea, Him Loved He Without Feigning, As His Own Son Were He!

What Is Now The Foliage Moving? Air Is Still, And Hush'd The Breeze, Sultriness, This Fullness Loving, Through The Thicket, From The Trees. Now The Eye At Once Gleams Brightly, See! The Infant Band With Mirth Moves And Dances Nimbly, Lightly, As The Morning Gave It Birth, Flutt'ring Two And Two O'er Earth.

I Hate All Bungling As I Do Sin, But Particularly Bungling In Politics, Which Leads To The Misery And Ruin Of Many Thousands And Millions Of People.

The People Who Are Absent Are The Ideal; Those Who Are Present Seem To Be Quite Commonplace.