What is grand is necessarily obscure to weak men. That which can be made explicit to the idiot is not worth my care.
William BlakeHow have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoyed in you! The languid strings do scarcely move! The sound is forced, the notes are few!
William BlakeThe hand of Vengeance found the Bed To which the Purple Tyrant fled The iron hand crush'd the tyrant's head And became Tyrant in his stead.
William Blake