What Joy Is Better Than The News

In Heaven I Yearn For Knowledge, Account All Else Inanity; On Earth I Confess An Itch For The Praise Of Fools - That's Vanity

Why Comes Temptation But For Man To Meet And Master And Make Crouch Beneath His Foot, And So Be Pedestaled In Triumph?

Brightest Truth, Purest Trust In The Universe, All Were For Me, In The Kiss Of One Girl.

What So Wild As Words Are?

That Great Brow And The Spirit-small Hand Propping It.