Take one soulfull of involuntary unbelief, which has been previously
well flavoured with self-satisfied despair. Add to this one beautiful
text of Scripture. Mix these well together; and as soon as ebullition
commences grate in finely a few regretful allusions to the New Testament
and the lake of Tiberias, one constellation of stars, half-a-dozen
allusions to the nineteenth century, one to Goethe, one to Mont Blanc,
or the Lake of Geneva; and one also, if possible, to some personal
bereavement. Flavour the whole with a mouthful of "faiths" and
"infinites," and a mixed mouthful of "passions," "finites," and
"yearnings." This class of poem is concluded usually with some question,
about which we have to observe only that it shall be impossible to
answer.