I Shall Attack Chemistry, Like

I May Not Hope From Outward Forms To Win / The Passion And The Life, Whose Fountains Are Within.

Farewell, Farewell! But This I Tell To Thee, Thou Wedding-guest! He Prayeth Well, Who Loveth Well Both Man And Bird And Beast.

How Well He Fell Asleepl Like Some Proud River, Widening Toward The Sea; Calmly And Grandly, Silently And Deep, Life Joined Eternity.

Falsehood Is Fire In Stubble; It Likewise Turns All The Light Stuff Around It Into Its Own Substance For A Moment, One Crackling Blazing Moment, And Then Dies; And All Its Converts Are Scattered In The Wind, Without Place Or Evidence Of Their Existence, As Viewless As The Wind Which Scatters Them.

Be Not Merely A Man Of Letters! Let Literature Be An Honorable Augmentations To Your Arms, Not Constitute The Coat Or Fill The Escutcheon!