The world and life's too big to pass for a dream

That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it: This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it. That low man goes on adding one to one, His hundred's soon hit: This high man, aiming at a million, Misses an unit. That, has the world here-should he need the next, Let the world mind him! This, throws himself on God, and unperplext Seeking shall find Him.

Once more on my adventure brave and new.

Art remains the one way possible of speaking truth.

'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls.

That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, lest you should think he never could recapture the first fine careless rapture!

Only I discern Infinite passion, and the pain Of finite hearts that yearn.