Another morn — The Prelude

"A grandeur in the beatings of the heart."

"Many are our joys In youth, but oh! what happiness to live When every hour brings palpable access Of knowledge, when all knowledge is delight, And sorrow is not there!"

"Where the statue stood Of Newton with his prism and silent face, The marble index of a mind forever Voyaging through strange seas of Thought, alone."

"Go to the Poets, they will speak to thee More perfectly of purer creatures;—yet If reason be nobility in man, Can aught be more ignoble than the man Whom they delight in, blinded as he is By prejudice, the miserable slave Of low ambition or distempered love?"

"Huge and mighty forms, that do not live Like living men, moved slowly through the mind By day, and were a trouble to my dreams."

"Wisdom and Spirit of the universe! Thou Soul that art the eternity of thought, That givest to forms and images a breath And everlasting motion."