But Let Me See Thee Stoop From

I Will Clamber Through The Clouds And Exist.

I Never Can Feel Certain Of Any Truth, But From A Clear Perception Of Its Beauty.

... For, By All The Stars That Tend Thy Bidding, I Do Think The Bars That Kept My Spirit In Are Burst - That I Am Sailing With Thee Through The Dizzy Sky! How Beautiful Thou Art!

Nothing Ever Becomes Real Till It Is Experienced.

So Let Me Be Thy Choir, And Make A Moan Upon The Midnight Hours.