Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty !

When the doors of perception are cleansed, men will see things as they truly are, infinite.

Children of the future age Reading this indignant page Know that in a former time Love, sweet love, was thought a crime

I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow, And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man, In every Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg'd manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls; And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls. But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear, And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

Ah, sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveller's journey is done; Where the youth pined away with desire And the pale virgin shrouded in snow Arise from their graves, and aspire Where my sunflower wishes to go.

The world of imagination is the world of eternity. It is the divine bosom into which we shall all go after death of the vegetative body.

Active Evil is better than Passive Good.