The feather, whence the pen Was shaped that traced the lives of these good men, Dropped from an angel's wing.

Delight and liberty, the simple creed of childhood.

Wisdom married to immortal verse.

Society became my glittering bride, And airy hopes my children.

Delivered from the galling yoke of time.

Poetry is emotion recollected in tranquillity.

I'm not talking about a "show me other walls of this thing" button, I mean a "stumble" button for wallbase.