Six Years-six Little Years-six Drops Of Time.

To Have The Sense Of Creative Activity Is The Great Happiness And The Great Proof Of Being Alive.

Coleridge: Poet And Philosopher Wrecked In A Mist Of Opium.

What Shelter To Grow Ripe Is Ours? What Leisure To Grow Wise?

And That Sweet City With Her Dreaming Spires, She Needs Not June For Beauty's Heightening.

God's Wisdom And God's Goodness!--ah, But Fools Mis-define Thee, Till God Knows Them No More. Wisdom And Goodness They Are God!--what Schools Have Yet So Much As Heard This Simpler Lore. This No Saint Preaches, And This No Church Rules: 'tis In The Desert, Now And Heretofore.