And now I see with eye serene, The very pulse of the machine. A being breathing thoughtful breaths, A traveler between life and death.
William WordsworthGive all thou canst; high Heaven rejects the lore of nicely-caluculated less or more.
William WordsworthOur birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar.
William Wordsworth