Design Must Be Proved Before A Designer

I Have Drunken Deep Of Joy, And I Will Taste No Other Wine Tonight.

Less Oft Peace In Shelley's Mind, Than Calm In Waters Seen.

[l]ike Thee To Those In Sorrow, Comes To Bid A Sweet Good-morrow To The Rough Year Just Awake In Its Cradle On The Brake. The Brightest Hour Of Unborn Spring, Through The Winter Wandering, Found, It Seems, The Halcyon Morn To Hoar February Born.

Love, From Its Awful Throne Of Patient Power In The Wise Heart, From The Last Giddy Hour Of Dread Endurance, From The Slippery, Steep, And Narrow Verge Of Crag-like Agony, Springs And Folds Over The World Its Healing Wings.

The World Is Weary Of The Past, Oh, Might It Die Or Rest At Last!