Stop and consider! life is but a day

There is an old saying "well begun is half done"-'tis a bad one. I would use instead-Not begun at all 'til half done.

This living hand, now warm and capable Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold And in the icy silence of the tomb, So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood, So in my veins red life might stream again, And thou be conscience-calm'd. See, here it is-- I hold it towards you.

O Solitude! If I must with thee dwell, Let it not be among the jumbled heap of murky buildings

Every mental pursuit takes its reality and worth from the ardour of the pursuer.

Feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps Of grasshoppers against the sun.

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.