From Sunny Woof And Cloudy Weft Fell

In Vain Would Science Scan And Trace Firmly Her Aspect. All The While, There Gleams Upon Her Far-off Face A Vague Unfathomable Smile.

Tears Are Summer Showers To The Soul.

When Held Up To The Window Pane, What Fixed My Baby Stare? The Glory Of The Glittering Rain, And Newness Everywhere.

Alfred Austin Said, "show Me Your Garden And I Shall Tell You What You Are."

Thought, Stumbling, Plods Past Fallen Temples, Vanished Gods, Altars Unincensed, Fanes Undecked, Eternal Systems Flown Or Wrecked; Through Trackless Centuries That Grant To The Poor Trudge Refreshment Scant, Age After Age, Pants On To Find A Melting Mirage Of The Mind.