...once I Falsely Hoped To Meet The

These Wonderful Narrations Inspired Me With Strange Feelings. Was Man, Indeed, At Once So Powerful, So Virtuous, And Magnificent, Yet So Vicious And Base? He Appeared At One Time A Mere Scion Of The Evil Principle And At Another As All That Can Be Conceived Of Noble And Godlike.

There Is Something At Work In My Soul Which I Do Not Understand. I Am Practically Industrious - Painstaking, A Workman To Execute With Perseverance And Labour - But Besides This There Is A Love For The Marvellous, A Belief In The Marvellous, Intertwined In All My Projects, Which Hurries Me Out Of The Common Pathways Of Men, Even To The Wild Sea And Unvisited Regions I Am About To Explore.

And The Violet Lay Dead While The Odour Flew On The Wings Of The Wind O'er The Waters Blue.

I Could Not Understand Why Men Who Knew All About Good And Evil Could Hate And Kill Each Other.

Every Where I See Bliss, From Which I Alone Am Irrevocably Excluded.