A Thousand Fantasies Begin To Throng Into

'paradise Lost' Is One Of The Books Which The Reader Admires And Lays Down, And Forgets To Take Up Again. None Ever Wished It Longer Than It Is.

That Power Which Erring Men Call Chance.

How Often From The Steep Of Echoing Hill Or Thicket Have We Heard Celestial Voices To The Midnight Air, Sole, Or Responsive Each To Other's Note, Singing Their Great Creator?

He That Has Light Within His Own Clear Breast May Sit In The Centre, And Enjoy Bright Day: But He That Hides A Dark Soul And Foul Thoughts Benighted Walks Under The Mid-day Sun; Himself His Own Dungeon.

Deep Vers'd In Books, And Shallow In Himself.