And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.

Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.

More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

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

Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.

Yonder cloud That rises upward always higher, And onward drags a laboring breast, And topples round the dreary west, A looming bastion fringed with fire.

A truth looks freshest in the fashions of the day.