Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.
As high as we have mounted in delight, In our dejection do we sink as low.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice?
[Mathematics] is an independent world created out of pure intelligence.
My apprehension comes in crowds, I dread the rustling of the grass, The very shadows of the clouds, Have power to shake me as they pass, I question things and do not find, one that will answer to my mind, And all the world appears unkind.
Meek Walton's heavenly memory.