Be mild, and cleave to gentle things, thy glory and thy happiness be there.
Earth helped him with the cry of blood.
With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony, and the deep power of joy, we see into the life of things.
To the solid ground Of nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye.
We murder to dissect.
Not in Utopia, -- subterranean fields, --Or some secreted island, Heaven knows whereBut in the very world, which is the worldOf all of us, -- the place where in the endWe find our happiness, or not at all