Being All Fashioned Of The Self-same Dust,

The Great Tragedy Of The Average Man Is That He Goes To His Grave With His Music Still In Him.

I Heard The Trailing Garments Of The Night Sweep Through Her Marble Halls! I Saw Her Sable Skirts All Fringed With Light From The Celestial Walls! I Felt Her Presence, By Its Spell Of Might, Stoop O'er Me From Above; The Calm, Majestic Presence Of The Night, As Of The One I Love.

For It Is The Fate Of A Woman Long To Be Patient And Silent, To Wait Like A Ghost That Is Speechless, Till Some Questioning Voice Dissolves The Spell Of Its Silence. Hence Is The Inner Life Of So Many Suffering Women Sunless And Silent And Deep, Like Subterranean Rivers Runnng Through Caverns Of Darkness.

I Will Be A Man Among Men; And No Longer A Dreamer Among Shadows. Henceforth Be Mine A Life Of Action And Reality! I Will Work In My Own Sphere, Nor Wish It Other Than It Is. This Alone Is Health And Happiness.

Thou Shalt Learn The Wisdom Early To Discern True Beauty In Utility.