Nature Herself Seems, I Say,

Genius Is Mainly An Affair Of Energy, And Poetry Is Mainly An Affair Of Genius; Therefore A Nation Whose Spirit Is Characterized By Energy May Well Be Imminent In Poetry - And We Have Shakespeare.

Not Deep The Poet Sees, But Wide.

It Does Not Try To Reach Down To The Level Of Inferior Classes; It Does Not Try To Win Them For This Or That Sect Of Its Own, With Ready-made Judgments And Watchwords Of Its Own. It Seeks To Away With Classes, To Make The Best That Has Been Taught And Known In The World Current Everywhere, To Make All Men Live In An Atmosphere Of Sweetness And Light, Where They May Use Ideas, As It Uses Them Itself, Freely--nourished, And Not Bound By Them.

Calm Soul Of All Things! Make It Mine To Feel, Amid The City's Jar, That There Abides A Peace Of Thine, Man Did Not Make, And Cannot Mar! The Will To Neither Strive Nor Cry, The Power To Feel What Others Give! Calm, Calm Me More! Nor Let Me Die Before I Have Begun To Live.

Art Still Has Truth. Take Refuge There.