Nature Has No Outline. Imagination Has.

If Others Had Not Been Foolish, We Should Be So.

He Who Shall Hurt The Little Wren Shall Never Be Beloved By Men.

Jerusalem (1804) And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time Walk Upon England's Mountains Green And Was The Holy Lamb Of God On England's Pleasant Pastures Seen And Did The Countenance Divine Shine Forth Upon Our Clouded Hills And Was Jerusalem Builded Here Among Those Dark Satanic Mills Bring Me My Bow Of Burning Gold Bring Me My Arrows Of Desire Bring Me My Spears O'clouds Unfold Bring Me My Chariot Of Fire I Will Not Cease From Mental Fight Nor Shall My Sword Sleep In My Hand 'til We Have Built Jerusalem In England's Green And Pleasant Land

Christ's Crucifix Shall Be Made An Excuse For Executing Criminals.

When The Stars Threw Down Their Spears, And Watered Heaven With Their Tears, Did He Smile His Work To See? Did He Who Made The Lamb Make Thee?