Tis Man's to explore up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason.
Day! Faster and more fast. O'er night's brim, day boils at last.
Desire joy and thank God for it. Renounce it, if need be, for other's sake. That's joy beyond joy.
Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.
Genius has somewhat of the infantine; but of the childish not a touch or taint.
Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!