It is the 1st mild day of March. Each minute sweeter than before... there is a blessing in the air.

Until, the breath of this corporeal frame And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul: While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony, and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.

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

Great God! I'd rather be a Pagan.

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.

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

Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep/ Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind.