She has seen the mystery hid Under Egypt's pyramid: By those eyelids pale and close Now she knows what Rhamses knows.

Thou large-brain'd woman and large-hearted man.

Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God: But only he who sees takes off his shoes.

Experience, like a pale musician, holds a dulcimer of patience in his hand.

Since when was genius found respectable?

The man, most man, works best for men: and, if most man indeed, he gets his manhood plainest from his soul.

When the dust of death has choked a great man's voice, the common words he said turn oracles, the common thoughts he yoked like horses draw like griffins.