Drive Your Cart And Plow

To See A World In A Grain Of Sand And A Heaven In A Wildflower.

The Stars Are Threshed, And The Souls Are Threshed From Their Husks.

Then The Parson Might Preach, & Drink, & Sing, And We'd Be As Happy As Birds In The Spring; And Modest Dame Lurch, Who Is Always At Church, Would Not Have Bandy Children, Nor Fasting, Nor Birch.

The Mocker Of Art Is The Mocker Of Jesus.

If Others Had Not Been Foolish, We Should Be So.