For Men To Tell How Human Life

From Morn To Noon He Fell, From Noon To Dewy Eve,- A Summer's Day; And With The Setting Sun Dropp'd From The Zenith Like A Falling Star.

How Often From The Steep Of Echoing Hill Or Thicket Have We Heard Celestial Voices To The Midnight Air, Sole, Or Responsive Each To Other's Note, Singing Their Great Creator?

The Pious And Just Honoring Of Ourselves May Be Thought The Fountainhead From Whence Every Laudable And Worthy Enterprise Issues Forth.

By Night The Glass Of Galileo ... Observes Imagin'd Land And Regions In The Moon.

With Cowslips Wan That Hang The Pensive Head, And Every Flower That Sad Embroidery Wears.