I Love Your Hills And

I Find That I Can Have No Enjoyment In The World But The Continual Drinking Of Knowledge. I Find There Is No Worthy Pursuit But The Idea Of Doing Some Good For The World.

I Myself Am Pursuing The Same Instinctive Course As The Veriest Human Animal You Can Think Of I Am, However Young, Writing At Random Straining At Particles Of Light In The Midst Of A Great Darkness Without Knowing The Bearing Of Any One Assertion, Of Any One Opinion. Yet May I Not In This Be Free From Sin?

I Would Jump Down Etna For Any Public Good - But I Hate A Mawkish Popularity.

This Living Hand, Now Warm And Capable Of Earnest Grasping, Would, If It Were Cold And In The Icy Silence Of The Tomb, So Haunt Thy Days And Chill Thy Dreaming Nights That Thou Would Wish Thine Own Heart Dry Of Blood, So In My Veins Red Life Might Stream Again, And Thou Be Conscience-calm'd. See, Here It Is-- I Hold It Towards You.

I Compare Human Life To A Large Mansion Of Many Apartments, Two Of Which I Can Only Describe, The Doors Of The Rest Being As Yet Shut Upon Me.