The Man Who Never Alters

Think Not Thou Canst Sigh A Sigh And Thy Maker Is Not By; Think Not Thou Canst Weep A Tear And Thy Maker Is Not Near.

Where Others See But The Dawn Coming Over The Hill, I See The Soul Of God Shouting For Joy.

Man Has Closed Himself Up, Till He Sees All Things Thro' Narrow Chinks Of His Cavern.

The Stolen And Perverted Writings Of Homer & Ovid, Of Plato & Cicero, Which All Men Ought To Contemn, Are Set Up By Artifice Against The Sublime Of The Bible

For Mercy Has A Human Heart Pity, A Human Face: And Love, The Human Form Divine, And Peace, The Human Dress.