The Busy Bee Has No Time For

First Thought Is Best In Art, Second In Other Matters.

My Brother Starv'd Between Two Walls,his Children's Cry My Soul Appalls

I Rest Not From My Great Task! | To Open The Eternal Worlds, | To Open The Immortal Eyes Of Man | Inwards Into The Worlds Of Thought; | Into Eternity, Ever Expanding | In The Bosom Of God, | The Human Imagination

I Was Angry With My Friend: I Told My Wrath, My Wrath Did End. I Was Angry With My Foe: I Told It Not, My Wrath Did Grow.

O Thou With Dewy Locks, Who Lookest Down Thro' The Clear Windows Of The Morning, Turn Thine Angel Eyes Upon Our Western Isle, Which In Full Choir Hails Thy Approach, O Spring! The Hills Tell Each Other, And The Listening Valleys Hear; All Our Longing Eyes Are Turned Up To Thy Bright Pavilions: Issue Forth, And Let Thy Holy Feet Visit Our Clime. Come O'er The Eastern Hills, And Let Our Winds Kiss Thy Perfumed Garments; Let Us Taste Thy Morn And Evening Breath; Scatter Thy Pearls Upon Our Love-sick Land That Mourns For Thee.