"I assert, for myself, that I do not behold the outward creation, and that to me it is hindrance and not action. "What !" it will be questioned, "when the sun rises, do you not see a round disc of fire somewhat like a guinea !" Oh ! no, no ! I see an innumerable company of the heavenly host crying "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty !" I question not my corporeal eye any more than I would question a window concerning a sight. I look through it, and not with it."

“And we are put on earth a little space,That we may learn to bear the beams of love,And these black bodies and this sunburnt faceIs but a cloud, and like a shady grove.”

“My mother bore me in the southern wild,And I am black, but O! my soul is white;White as an angel is the English child,But I am black as if bereaved of light.”

“Little Lamb, who made thee?Dost thou know who made thee?Gave thee life and bid thee feedBy the stream and o'er the mead;Gave thee clothing of delight,Softest clothing, woolly bright.”

“Sing louder aroundTo the bells' cheerful sound,While our sports shall be seenOn the ecchoing green.”

“And I made a rural pen,And I stained the water clear,And I wrote my happy songsEvery child may joy to hear.”

“Piping down the valleys wild,Piping songs of pleasant glee,On a cloud I saw a child,And he laughing said to me:"Pipe a song about a Lamb."So I piped with merry cheer;"Piper, pipe that song again."So I piped; he wept to hear.”