As a bad orator, badly o'er-book-skilled,/ Doth overflow his purpose with made heat,/ And, like a clock, winds with withoutness willed/ What should have been an inner instinct's feat;/ Or as a prose-...
How can I think, or edge my thoughts to action,/ When the miserly press of each day's need/ Aches to a narrowness of spilled distraction/ My soul appalled at the world's work's time-greed?/ How can I...
Oh to be idle loving idleness!/ But I am idle all in hate of me;/ Ever in action's dream, in the false stress/ Of purposed action never act to be./ Like a fierce beast self-penned in a bait-lair,/ My...
When I do think my meanest line shall be/ More in Time's use than my creating whole,/ That future eyes more clearly shall feel me/ In this inked page than in my direct soul;/ When I conjecture put to...
If that apparent part of life's delight/ Our tingled flesh-sense circumscribes were seen/ By aught save reflex and co-carnal sight,/ Joy, flesh and life might prove but a gross screen./ Haply Truth's...
Whether we write or speak or do but look/ We are ever unapparent. What we are/ Cannot be transfused into word or book./ Our soul from us is infinitely far./ However much we give our thoughts the will...
On Destiny: "Our destiny exercises its influence over us even when, as yet, we have not learned its nature: it is our future that lays down the law of our today."
Human, All Too Human