I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill
Every thing possible to be believ'd is an image of truth.
Joy and woe are woven fine.
Can I see another's woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, and not seek for kind relief?
God forbid that Truth should be confined to Mathematical Demonstration!
O Earth, O Earth, return! Arise from out the dewy grass; Night is worn; And the morn Rises from the slumbrous mass.