Then Felt I Like Some

I Am Sailing With Thee Through The Dizzy Sky! How Beautiful Thou Art!

O Fret Not After Knowledge - I Have None, And Yet My Song Comes Native With The Warmth. O Fret Not After Knowledge - I Have None, And Yet The Evening Listens.

I Cannot See What Flowers Are At My Feet, Nor What Soft Incense Hangs Upon The Boughs, But, In Embalmed Darkness, Guess Each Sweet.

To The Very Last, He [napoleon] Had A Kind Of Idea; That, Namely, Of La Carrière Ouverte Aux Talents, - The Tools To Him That Can Handle Them.

To One Who Has Been Long In City Pent, ’tis Very Sweet To Look Into The Fair And Open Face Of Heaven, — To Breathe A Prayer Full In The Smile Of The Blue Firmament.