All Spirits Are Enslaved Which Serve Things

My Father Time Is Weak And Gray With Waiting For A Better Day; See How Idiot-like He Stands, Fumbling With His Palsied Hands!

Sow Seed--but Let No Tyrant Reap; Find Wealth--let No Imposter Heap; Weave Robes--let Not The Idle Wear; Forge Arms--in Your Defence To Bear.

The Cloud Shadows Of Midnight Possess Their Own Repose.

The Encomium Of One Incapable Of Flattery Is Indeed Flattering.

O Heart, And Mind, And Thoughts! What Thing Do You Hope To Inherit In The Grave Below?