All Flowers Will Droop In The Absence

For Mysterious Things Of Faith, Rely On The Proponent, Heaven's Authority.

Let Fortune Empty Her Whole Quiver On Me, I Have A Soul That, Like An Ample Shield, Can Take In All, And Verge Enough For More; Fate Was Not Mine, Nor Am I Fate's: Souls Know No Conquerors.

By Education Most Have Been Misled; So They Believe, Because They Were Bred. The Priest Continues Where The Nurse Began, And Thus The Child Imposes On The Man.

All Flowers Will Droop In The Absence Of The Sun That Waked Their Sweets.

Time Glides With Undiscover'd Haste; The Future But A Length Behind The Past.