What a name! Was it love or praise? Speech half-asleep or song half-awake? I must learn Spanish, one of these days, Only for that slow sweet name's sake.

God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.

Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed As, God be thanked! I do not.

God is the perfect poet, Who in his person acts his own creations.

Stand still, true poet that you are! I know you; let me try and draw you. Some night you'll fail us: when afar You rise, remember one man saw you, Knew you, and named a star!

Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character.

Finds progress, man's distinctive mark alone, Not God's, and not the beast's; God is, they are, Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.