As Long As There Are Men The

There's Only Few People Who Have Strength To Honor Someone's Achievement Without Envy.

The Moving Light, Rejoicing In Its Strength, Sped From The Pyre Of Pine, And Urged Its Way, In Golden Glory, Like Some Strange New Sun.

When The Black And Mortal Blood Of Man Has Fallen To The Ground ... Who Then Can Sing Spells To Call It Back Again?

Oh, It Is Easy For The One Who Stands Outside The Prison-wall Of Pain To Exhort And Teach The One Who Suffers.

Time Brings All Things To Pass.