On Top Of The World, Or In

In Happy Ignorance, I Sighed For A World I Did Not Know, Where I Hoped To Find Every Pleasure And Enjoyment Which My Heart Could Desire; And Now, On My Return From That Wide World... How Many Disappointed Hopes And Unsuccessful Plans Have I Brought Back!

People Have A Peculiar Pleasure In Making Converts, That Is, In Causing Others To Enjoy What They Enjoy, Thus Finding Their Own Likeness Represented And Reflected Back To Them.

The Few Of Understanding, Vision Rare, Who Veiled Not From The Herd Their Hearts, But Tried, Poor Generous Fools, To Lay Their Feelings Bare, Them Have Men Always Burnt And Crucified.

Let Him Who Believes In Immortality Enjoy His Happiness In Silence; He Has No Reason To Give Himself Airs About It.

Superstition Is The Poesy Of Practical Life; Hence, A Poet Is None The Worse For Being Superstitious.