No Voice; But Oh - The Silence

That Gracious Thing, Made Up Of Tears And Light.

No Man Was Ever Yet A Great Poet, Without Being At The Same Time A Profound Philosopher. For Poetry Is The Blossom And The Fragrance Of All Human Knowledge, Human Thoughts, Human Passions, Emotions, Language.

Where Virtue Is, Sensibility Is The Ornament And Becoming Attire Of Virtue. On Certain Occasions It May Almost Be Said To Become Virtue. But Sensibility And All The Amiable Qualities May Likewise Become, And Too Often Have Become, The Panders Of Vice And The Instruments Of Seduction.

Farewell, Farewell! But This I Tell To Thee, Thou Wedding-guest! He Prayeth Well, Who Loveth Well Both Man And Bird And Beast.

To Sentence A Man Of True Genius, To The Drudgery Of A School Is To Put A Racehorse On A Treadmill.