Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
Art remains the one way possible of speaking truth.
Genius has somewhat of the infantine; but of the childish not a touch or taint.
Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before Love, - Only sleep.
The world and life's too big to pass for a dream