Day's Lustrous Eyes Grow Heavy

A Healthy Nature Needs No God Or Immortality

O The Eye's Light Is A Noble Gift Of Heaven! All Beings Live From Light, Each Fair Created Thing; The Very Plants Turn With A Joyful Transport To The Light.

Seraphs Share With Thee Knowledge; But Art, O Man, Is Thine Alone!

What Else Is Chance But The Rude Stone Which Receives Its Life From The Sculptor's Hand? Providence Gives Us Chance, And Man Must Mould It To His Own Designs.

Man Is Made Of Ordinary Things, And Habit Is His Nurse.