Man Is Of Soul And Body, Formed

When The Power Of Imparting Joy Is Equal To The Will, The Human Soul Requires No Other Heaven.

War Is The Statesman's Game, The Priest's Delight, The Lawyer's Jest, The Hired Assassin's Trade.

Nothing In The World Is Single, All Things By A Law Divine, In One Spirit Meet And Mingle-why Not I With Thine?

I Consider Poetry Very Subordinate To Moral And Political Science.

So Is Hope Changed For Despair-one Laid Upon The Shelf, We Take The Other. Under Heaven's High Cope Fortune Is God-all You Endure And Do Depends On Circumstance As Much As You.