Here, on this side of the grave

Oh you who read some song I have sung What know you of the soul from whence it sprung

The world needs divine power in every human being the recognition of which is the secret to all success and happiness

There is no language that love does not speak

Each thing must create its kind; And they speed o'er the track to bring you back Whatever went out from your mind.

How fleeting the sorrows of youth, how slight the foundations on which the young build towers of despair

It is impossible to pursue a successful literary career and follow the advice of all one's 'best friends'. I feel compelled to follow the light which my own intellect & judgement cast upon my way, rather than any one of the many …