Quotes
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Locke sank into a swoon;
The Garden died;
God took the spinning-jenny
Out of his side.
The Garden died;
God took the spinning-jenny
Out of his side.
The Tower, 1928. Fragments
I tremble for my species when I reflect that God is just.
I see my way as birds their trackless way.
I shall arrive, what time, what circuit first,
I ask not; but unless God send his hail
Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow,
In some time, his good time, I shall arrive:
He guides me and the bird. In his good time.
I shall arrive, what time, what circuit first,
I ask not; but unless God send his hail
Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow,
In some time, his good time, I shall arrive:
He guides me and the bird. In his good time.
Paracelsus
From yon blue heaven above us bent,
The grand old gardener and his wife
Smile at the claims of long descent.
The grand old gardener and his wife
Smile at the claims of long descent.
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