Many A Time I Have Been Half

You Might Curb Your Magnanimity, And Be More Of An Artist, And Load Every Rift Of Your Subject With Ore.

The Roaring Of The Wind Is My Wife And The Stars Through The Window Pane Are My Children.

I Stood Tip-toe Upon A Little Hill, The Air Was Cooling, And So Very Still, That The Sweet Buds Which With A Modest Pride Pull Droopingly, In Slanting Curve Aside, Their Scantly Leaved, And Finely Tapering Stems, Had Not Yet Lost Those Starry Diadems Caught From The Early Sobbing Of The Morn.

An Extensive Knowledge Is Needful To Thinking People-it Takes Away The Heat And Fever; And Helps, By Widening Speculation, To Ease The Burden Of The Mystery.

Wherein Lies Happiness? In That Which Becks Our Ready Minds To Fellowship Divine, A Fellowship With Essence; Till We Shine, Full Alchemiz’d, And Free Of Space. Behold The Clear Religion Of Heaven!