Love And The Gentle Heart

Nature Is The Art Of God.

The Mind Which Is Created Quick To Love, Is Responsive To Everything That Is Pleasing, Soon As By Pleasure It Is Awakened Into Activity. Your Apprehensive Faculty Draws An Impression From A Real Object, And Unfolds It Within You, So That It Makes The Mind Turn Thereto. And If, Being Turned, It Inclines Towards It, That Inclination Is Love; That Is Nature, Which Through Pleasure Is Bound Anew Within You.

As Fall The Light Autumnal Leaves, One Still The Other Following, Till The Bough Strews All Its Honors On The Earth Below.

As One Who Sees In Dreams And Wakes To Find The Emotional Impression Of His Vision Still Powerful While Its Parts Fade From His Mind - Just Such Am I, Having Lost Nearly All The Vision Itself, While In My Heart I Feel The Sweetness Of It Yet Distill And Fall.

Here We Find The Moat Of Thieves. And Just As A Lizard, With A Quick, Slick Slither, Flicks Across The Highway From Hedge To Hedge, Fleeter Than A Flash, In The Battering Dog-day Weather, A Fiery Little Monster, Livid, In A Rage, Black As Any Peppercorn, Came And Made A Dart At The Guts Of The Others, And Leaping To Engage One Of The Pair, It Pierced Him At The Part Through Which We First Draw Food; Then Loosed Its Grip And Fell Before Him, Outstretched And Apart.