And every dew-drop paints a bow.

Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.

There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.

Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.

From yon blue heavens above us bent The gardener Adam and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent. Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.

So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight

And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain.