Out Of My Great Sorrows, I Make

When'er Into Thine Eyes I See, All Pain And Sorrow Fly From Me. [ger., Wenn Ich In Deine Augen Sch' So Schwindet All' Mein Leid Und Weh.]

With The Rose The Butterfly's Deep In Love, A Thousand Times Hovering Round; But Round Himself, All Tender Like Gold, The Sun's Sweet Ray Is Hovering Found.

Ask Me Not What I Have, But What I Am.

At Noon I Feel As Though I Could Devour All The Elephants Of Hindostan, And Then Pick My Teeth With The Spire Of Strasburg Cathedral; In The Evening I Become So Sentimental That I Would Fain Drink Up The Milky Way Without Reflecting How Indigestible I Should Find The Little Fixed Stars, And By Night There Is The Devil Himself Broke Loose In My Head And No Mistake.

Our Souls Must Become Expanded By The Contemplation Of Nature's Grandeur, Before We Can Fully Comprehend The Greatness Of Man.