Faith is a passionate intuition.

Delivered from the galling yoke of time.

This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

The ocean is a mighty harmonist.

Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore; Plain living and high thinking are no more.

Heaven lies about us in our infancy.

Whether we be young or old,Our destiny, our being's heart and home,Is with infinitude, and only there;With hope it is, hope that can never die,Effort and expectation, and desire,And something evermore about to be.