I Will Be A Man Among Men;

Then Followed That Beautiful Season... Summer.... Filled Was The Air With A Dreamy And Magical Light; And The Landscape Lay As If New Created In All The Freshness Of Childhood.

The Picture That Approaches Sculpture Nearest Is The Best Picture.

The Helicon Of Too Many Poets Is Not A Hill Crowned With Sunshine And Visited By The Muses And The Graces, But An Old, Mouldering House, Full Of Gloom And Haunted By Ghosts.

So Nature Deals With Us, And Takes Away Our Playthings One By One, And By The Hand Leads Us To Rest So Gently, That We Go, Scarce Knowing If We Wish To Go Or Stay, Being Too Full Of Sleep To Understand How Far The Unknown Transcends The What We Know.

Man Is Unjust, But God Is Just; And Finally Justice Triumphs.