Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
EACH AND ALL[23]
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown,
On thee, from the hill top looking down;
And the heifer that lows on the upland farm,
Far heard, lows not thine ear to charm;
The sexton, tolling the bell at noon,
Dreams not that great Napoleon