Only This I Know, That One Celestial

Sweet Is The Breath Of Morn, Her Rising Sweet, With Charm Of Earliest Birds.

The Mind Is Its Own Place, And In Itself, Can Make Heaven Of Hell, And A Hell Of Heaven.

Servant Of God, Well Done! Well Hast Thou Fought The Better Fight, Who Single Hast Maintain'd Against Revolted Multitudes The Cause Of Truth.

Nothing Is Here For Tears, Nothing To Wail Or Knock The Breast, No Weakness, No Contempt, Dispraise, Or Blame,-nothing But Well And Fair, And What May Quiet Us In A Death So Noble.

Quips And Cranks And Wanton Wiles, Nods And Becks And Wreathèd Smiles.