The sightless Milton, with his hair Around his placid temples curled; And Shakespeare at his side,-a freight, If clay could think and mind were weight, For him who bore the world!

Bliss it was in that dawn to be alive But to be young was very heaven.

Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!

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!

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.

Faith is, necessary to explain anything, and to reconcile the foreknowledge of God with human evil.

Earth has not anything to show more fair.