Is It So Small A Thing To

Weary Of Myself, And Sick Of Asking What I Am, And What I Ought To Be, At This Vessel's Prow I Stand, Which Bears Me Forwards, Forwards, O'er The Starlit Sea.

He Spoke, And Loos'd Our Heart In Tears. He Laid Us As We Lay At Birth On The Cool Flowery Lap Of Earth.

Know, Man Hath All Which Nature Hath, But More, And In That More Lie All His Hopes Of Good.

For Eager Teachers Seized My Youth, Pruned My Faith And Trimmed My Fire. Showed Me The High, White Star Of Truth, There Bade Me Gaze And There Aspire.

The "hairy Quadruped Furnished With A Tail And, Pointed Ears, Probably Arboreal In His Habits," This Good Fellow Carried Hidden In His Nature, Apparently, Something Destined To Develop Into A Necessity For Humane Letters.