Death, only death, can break the lasting chain; And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain

Whate'er the talents, or howe'er designed, We hang one jingling padlock on the mind.

Nor Fame I slight, nor for her favors call; She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all .

True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance.

Where London's column, pointing at the skies, Like a tall bully, lifts the head, and lies.

And die of nothing but a rage to live.

[T]hro’ this Air, this Ocean, and this Earth, All Nature quick, and bursting into birth. Above, how high progressive life may go? Around how wide? how deep extend below? Vast Chain of Being! which from God began, Ethereal Essence, Spirit, Substance, Man, Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect! what no Eye can see, No Glass can reach! from Infinite to Thee! From Thee to Nothing.... From Nature’s Chain whatever Link you strike, Tenth, or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike.... All are but parts of one stupendous Whole: Whose Body Nature is, and God the Soul.