Earth has not anything to show more fair: <br>Dull would he be of soul who could pass by <br>A sight so touching in its majesty: <br>This City now doth$$$ like a garment$$$ wear <br>The beauty of the morning; silent$$$ bare$$$ <br>Ships$$$ towers$$$ domes$$$ theatres$$$ and temples lie <br>Open unto the fields$$$ and to the sky; <br>All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. <br>Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour$$$ valley$$$ rock$$$ or hill; <br>Ne'er saw I$$$ never felt$$$ a calm so deep!

I listen'd$$$ motionless and still;<br>And$$$ as I mounted up the hill$$$<br>The music in my heart I bore$$$<br>Long after it was heard no more.

The earth was all before me. With a heart<br>Joyous$$$ nor scared at its own liberty$$$<br>I look about; and should the chosen guide<br>Be nothing better than a wandering cloud$$$<br>I cannot miss my way.

Be mild$$$ and cleave to gentle things$$$ thy glory and thy happiness be there.

When from our better selves we have too long<br>Been parted by the hurrying world$$$ and droop$$$<br>Sick of its business$$$ of its pleasures tired$$$<br>How gracious$$$ how benign$$$ is Solitude.

With an eye made quiet by the power of harmony$$$ and the deep power of joy$$$ we see into the life of things.

A million candles burnt in him without his being at the trouble of lighting a single one.

How far do our feelings take their colour from the dive underground? I mean$$$ what is the reality of any feeling?

I feel that by writing I am doing what is far more necessary than anything else.

Indeed there has never been any explanation of the ebb and flow in our veins--of happiness and unhappiness.