When God makes His presence felt through us, we are like the burning bush: Moses never took any heed what sort of bush it was — he only saw the brigh… - George Eliot

"This wonder which my soul hath found, This heart of music in the might of sound, Shall forthwith be the share of all our race, And like the morning gladden common space: The song shall spread and swell as rivers do, And I will teach our youth with skill to woo This living lyre, to know its secret will; Its fine division of the good and ill. So shall men call me sire of harmony, And where great Song is, there my life shall be." Thus glorying as a god beneficent, Forth from his solitary joy he went To bless mankind.

I beg your pardon: correct English is the slang of prigs who write history and essays. And the strongest slang of all is the slang of poets.

He rushed before them to the glittering space, And, with a strength that was but strong desire, Cried, "I am Jubal, I!.... I made the lyre!" The tones amid a lake of silence fell Broken and strained, as if a feeble bell Had tuneless pealed the triumph of a land To listening crowds in expectation spanned. Sudden came showers of laughter on that lake; They spread along the train from front to wake In one great storm of merriment, while he Shrank doubting whether he could Jubal be...