Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and were trouble to my dreams.

The daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dewdrop from the sun.

And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.

The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way!

But who shall parcel out His intellect by geometric rules, Split like a province into round and square?

Prompt to move but firm to wait - knowing things rashly sought are rarely found.

What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.