The Brain Can Be Easy To Buy,

What A Sense Of Security In An Old Book Which Time Has Criticized For Us!

God Is Not Dumb, That He Should Speak No More; If Thou Hast Wanderings In The Wilderness And Find'st Not Sinai, 'tis Thy Soul Is Poor.

Not As All Other Women Are Is She That To My Soul Is Dear; Her Glorious Fancies Come From Far, Beneath The Silver Evening Star, And Yet Her Heart Is Ever Near.

Time Makes Ancient Good Uncouth.

Whoever Can Endure Unmixed Delight, Whoever Can Tolerate Music And Painting And Poetry All In One, Whoever Wishes To Be Rid Of Thought And To Let The Busy Anvils Of The Brain Be Silent For A Time, Let Him Read In The "faery Queen."