I Stand In The Sunny Noon Of

This Is The Method Of Genius, To Ripen Fruit For The Crowd By Those Rays Of Whose Heat They Complain.

When The Intellect And Affections Are In Harmony; When Intellectual Consciousness Is Calm And Deep; Inspiration Will Not Be Confounded With Fancy.

The Public Must Learn How To Cherish The Nobler And Rarer Plants, And To Plant The Aloe, Able To Wait A Hundred Years For It's Bloom, Or It's Garden Will Contain, Presently, Nothing But Potatoes And Pot-herbs.

Who Can Ever Be Alone For A Moment In Italy? Every Stone Has A Voice, Every Grain Of Dust Seems Instinct With Spirit From The Past, Every Step Recalls Some Line, Some Legend Of Long-neglected Lore.

Today A Reader, Tomorrow A Leader.