An intellectual hate is the worst.
Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart. O when may it suffice?
Be secret and exult, Because of all things known That is most difficult.
I call on those that call me son, Grandson, or great-grandson, On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts, To judge what I have done. Have I, that put it into words, Spoilt what old loins have sent?
God guard me from those thoughts men think In the mind alone.
What the world's million lips are searching for, must be substantial somewhere.