This Is To Be Mortal, And Seek

The Reading Or Non-reading A Book Will Never Keep Down A Single Petticoat.

Roll On, Deep And Dark Blue Ocean, Roll. Ten Thousand Fleets Sweep Over Thee In Vain. Man Marks The Earth With Ruin, But His Control Stops With The Shore.

Egypt! From Whose All Dateless Tombs Arose Forgotten Pharaohs From Their Long Repose, And Shook Within Their Pyramids To Hear A New Cambyses Thundering In Their Ear; While The Dark Shades Of Forty Ages Stood Like Startled Giants By Nile's Famous Flood.

There Is Pleasure In The Pathless Woods, There Is Rapture In The Lonely Shore, There Is Society Where None Intrudes, By The Deep Sea, And Music In Its Roar; I Love Not Man The Less, But Nature More.

Oh That The Desert Were My Dwelling-place, With One Fair Spirit For My Minister