trate the ocean and land, space and time, form and essence,
and hold the key to universal Nature. I draw from this faith,
courage, and hope. All things are known to the soul.
not to be surprised by any communication. Nothing can be
greater than it. Let those fear and those fawn who will.
The soul is in her native realm, and it is wider than space,
older than time, wide as hope, rich as love. Pusillanimity
and fear she refuses with a beautiful scorn; they are not for
her who putteth on her coronation robes, and goes out
through universal love to universal power.
T. C. Savill, Printer, 4, Chandos Street, Covent Garden.