`I have no name： I am but two days old.' What shall I call thee？ `I happy am， Joy is my name.' Sweet joy befall thee！ Pretty Joy！ Sweet Joy， b...
Why should Punishment weave the veil with Iron Wheels of War， When Forgiveness might it weave with Wings of Cherubim？...
My mother bore me in the southern wild， And I am black， but O！ my soul is white； White as an angel is the English child， But I am black， as if bereav&...
O what is Life and what is Man？ O what is Death？ Wherefore Are you， my Children， natives in the Grave to where I go？ Or are you born to feed the hungr...
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy， And the dimpling stream runs laughing by； When the air does laugh with our merry wit， And the green ...
What may Man be？ who can tell？ But what may Woman be， To have power over Man from Cradle to corruptible Grave？ There is a Throne in every Man： it is t...
And laughing is heard on the hill， My heart is at rest within my breast， And everything else is still. `Then come home， my children， the sun is gone d...
Our Wars are wars of life， and wounds of love， With intellectual spears， and long wingèd arrows of thought. Mutual in one another's love an...
'Twas on a Holy Thursday， their innocent faces clean， The children walking two and two， in red and blue and green， Grey-headed beadles walk'd ...
Each Man is in his Spectre's power Until the arrival of that hour， When his Humanity awake， And cast his Spectre into the Lake....