Imagination is the means of deep insight and sympathy, the power to conceive and express images removed from normal objective reality.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

Therefore am I still a lover of the meadows and the woods, and mountains; and of all that we behold from this green earth.

Spires whose "silent finger points to heaven."

A multitude of causes unknown to former times are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor.

Look at the fate of summer flowers, which blow at daybreak, droop ere even-song.

Provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke.