Our meddling intellect Misshapes the beauteous forms of things We murder to dissect

Father! - to God himself we cannot give a holier name.

Plain living and high thinking are no more.

Monastic brotherhood, upon rock Aerial.

A lawyer art thou? Draw not nigh! Go, carry to some fitter place The keenness of that practised eye, The hardness of that sallow face.

Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give, And in the light of truth thy bondman let me live!

Because the good old rule Sufficeth them,-the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can.