To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.

Happier of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there, one of a mighty multitude whose way and motion is a harmony and dance magnificent.

The mind of man is a thousand times more beautiful than the earth on which he dwells.

Those old credulities, to Nature dear, Shall they no longer bloom upon the stock Of history?

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.

And he is oft the wisest manWho is not wise at all.