Nature, With Equal Mind, Sees All Her

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.

It Is - Last Stage Of All When We Are Frozen Up Within, And Quite The Phantom Of Ourselves To Hear The World Applaud The Hollow Ghost Which Blamed The Living Man

But So Many Books Thou Readest, But So Many Schemes Thou Breedest, But So Many Wishes Feedest, That Thy Poor Head Almost Turns.

All The Live Murmur Of A Summer's Day.

Change Doth Unknit The Tranquil Strength Of Men.