New Angel Mine, Unhoped For In The

Some People Always Sigh In Thanking God.

O Brave Poets, Keep Back Nothing; Nor Mix Falsehood With The Whole! Look Up Godward! Speak The Truth In Worthy Song From Earnest Soul! Hold, In High Poetic Duty, Truest Truth The Fairest Beauty.

Earth's Crammed With Heaven, And Every Common Bush Afire With God: But Only He Who Sees Takes Off His Shoes.

Do Ye Hear The Children Weeping, O My Brothers?

The English Have A Scornful Insular Way Of Calling The French Light.