Truth that peeps Over the glass's edge when dinner's done.
I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.
Lose who may-I still can say, Those who win heaven, blest are they!
I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.
Make us happy and you make us good.
Say not "a small event!" Why "small"? Costs it more pain that this ye call A "great event" should come to pass From that? Untwine me from the mass Of deeds which make up life, one deed Power shall fall short in or exceed!