Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.

I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man.

Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.

Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence.

This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.

The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witchery of the soft blue sky!

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