Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again.

Ten thousand saw I at a glance, tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

Hearing often-times the still, sad music of humanity, nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power to chasten and subdue.

Earth has not anything to show more fair.

All men feel a habitual gratitude, and something of an honorable bigotry, for the objects which have long continued to please them.

By all means sometimes be alone; salute thyself; see what thy soul doth wear; dare to look in thy chest; and tumble up and down what thou findest there.

The holy time is quiet as a nun Breathless with adoration.