That Pernicious Sentiment, "our Country,

God Is Not Dumb, That He Should Speak No More; If Thou Hast Wanderings In The Wilderness And Find'st Not Sinai, 'tis Thy Soul Is Poor.

That Love For One, From Which There Doth Not Spring Wide Love For All, Is But A Worthless Thing.

They Have Rights Who Dare Maintain Them.

Like Streams That Keep A Summer Mind Snow-hid In Jenooary.

Truth Is Quite Beyond The Reach Of Satire. There Is So Brave A Simplicity In Her That She Can No More Be Made Ridiculous Than An Oak Or A Pine.