I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.
The woman's cause is man's: they rise or sink Together.
Mastering the lawless science of our law,- that codeless myriad of precedent, that wilderness of single instances.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life.
The noonday quiet holds the hill.
Tis not too late to seek a newer world.