It Is Among Men Of Genius And

The Flood Of Time Is Rolling On; We Stand Upon Its Brink, Whilst They Are Gone To Glide In Peace Down Death's Mysterious Stream. Have Ye Done Well?

I Know The Cause Of All Human Disappointment -- Worldly Prejudice.

Can Man Be Free If Woman Be A Slave?

Fear Not For The Future, Weep Not For The Past.

Poets Are The Hierophants Of An Unapprehended Inspiration; The Mirrors Of The Gigantic Shadows Which Futurity Casts Upon The Present.