Yet Through All, We Know

The Pale Child, Eve, Leading Her Mother, Night.

Most Brilliant Star Upon The Crest Of Time Is England. England!

Stirling, Like A Huge Brooch, Clasps Highlands And Lowlands Together.

We Have Two Lives; The Soul Of Man Is Like The Rolling World, One Half In Day, The Other Dipt In Night; The One Has Music And The Flying Cloud, The Other, Silence And The Wakeful Stars.

A Man Gazing At The Stars Is Proverbially At The Mercy Of The Puddles In The Road.