As is to archangel—God!
"Running o'er with tears and weakness;
Flaming like a mountain fire;
Racked by hate and hateful passions;
Tossed about by wild desire;
There is still within him mingled
With each fault that dims or mars,
Truth, and pity, virtue, courage,—
Thoughts that fly beyond the stars!
"You, who prize the book's fair paper