No Man Does Anything From A Single

A Poet Ought Not To Pick Nature's Pocket. Let Him Borrow, And So Borrow As To Repay By The Very Act Of Borrowing. Examine Nature Accurately, But Write From Recollection, And Trust More To The Imagination Than The Memory.

And All Who Heard Should See Them There, And All Should Cry, Beware! Beware! His Flashing Eyes, His Floating Hair! Weave A Circle Round Him Thrice, And Close Your Eyes With Holy Dread, For He On Honey-dew Hath Fed, And Drunk The Milk Of Paradise.

Milton Has Carefully Marked In His Satan The Intense Selfishness, The Alcohol Of Egotism, Which Would Rather Reign In Hell Than Serve In Heaven.

He Saw A Lawyer Killing A Viper On A Dunghill Hard By His Own Stable; And The Devil Smiled, For It Put Him In Mind Of Cain And His Brother Abel.

Ancestral Voices Prophesying War.