What I Do Is Me, For That

My Own Heart Let Me More Have Pity On; Let Me Live To My Sad Self Hereafter Kind, Charitable; Not Live This Tormented Mind With This Tormented Mind Tormenting Yet.

The World Is Charged With The Grandeur Of God. It Will Flame Out, Like Shining From Shook Foil; It Gathers To A Greatness, Like The Ooze Of Oil Crushed.

The Best Ideal Is The True And Other Truth Is None. All Glory Be Ascribed To The Holy Three In One.

I Am All At Once What Christ Is, ' Since He Was What I Am, And This Jack, Joke, Poor Potsherd, ' Patch, Matchwood, Immortal Diamond, Is Immortal Diamond.

It Is A Happy Thing That There Is No Royal Road To Poetry. The World Should Know By This Time That One Cannot Reach Parnassus Except By Flying Thither.