Lovely The Woods, Waters, Meadows, Combes, Vales,

Horrible To Say, In A Manner I Am A Communist.

For I Think It Is The Case With Genius That It Is Not When Quiescent So Very Much Above Mediocrity As The Difference Between The Two Might Lead Us To Think, But That It Has The Power And Privilege Of Rising From That Level To A Height Utterly Far From Mediocrity: In Other Words That Its Greatness Is That It Can Be So Great.

Birds Buildbut Not I Build; No, But Strain, Time's Eunuch, And Not Breed One Work That Wakes. Mine,o Thou Lord Of Life, Send My Roots Rain.

What Is All This Juice And All This Joy?

Any Day, Any Minute We Bless God For Our Being Or For Anything, For Food, For Sunlight, We Do And Are What We Were Meant For, Madefor--things That Give And Mean To Give God Glory.