Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau! Mock on, mock on: 'Tis all in vain! You throw the sand against the wind, And the wind blows it back again. And every sand becomes a gem Reflected in the beams divine; Blown back they blind the mocking eye, But still in Israel's paths they shine. The atoms of Democritus And Newton's particles of light Are sands upon the Red Sea shore, Where Israel's tents do shine so bright.

Every mortal loss is an immortal gain.

I am going to that country which I have all my life wished to see.

The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.

The Man who never in his Mind & Thoughts travel'd to Heaven Is No Artist.

Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!

Do what you will this life's a fiction, And is made up of contradiction.