Remorse Weeps Tears Of Blood.

The Water-lily, In The Midst Of Waters, Opens Its Leaves And Expands Its Petals, At The First Pattering Of The Shower, And Rejoices In The Rain-drops With A Quicker Sympathy Than The Packed Shrubs In The Sandy Desert.

The Man Hath Penance Done, And Penance More Will Do.

Ah! From The Soul Itself Must Issue Forth A Light, A Glory, A Fair Luminous Cloud Enveloping The Earth.

The Heart Should Have Fed Upon The Truth, As Insects On A Leaf, Till It Be Tinged With The Color, And Show Its Food In Every ... Minutest Fiber.

Not One Man In A Thousand Has Either Strength Of Mind Or Goodness Of Heart To Be An Atheist.