I Have Been A Wanderer

A Christian, A Deist, A Turk, And A Jew, Have Equal Rights: They Are Men And Brethren.

A Poet Is A Nightingale, Who Sits In Darkness And Sings To Cheer Its Own Solitude With Sweet Sounds; His Auditors Are As Men Entranced By The Melody Of An Unseen Musician, Who Feel That They Are Moved And Softened, Yet Know Not Whence Or Why.

Deep Truth Is Imageless.

Fate,time,occasion,chance, And Change? To These All Things Are Subject But Eternal Love.

O! I Burn With Impatience For The Moment Of The Dissolution Of Intolerance; It Has Injured Me.