Chaos Umpire Sits And By Decision More

And I Will Place Within Them As A Guide My Umpire Conscience, Whom If They Will Hear Light After Light Well Used They Shall Attain, And To The End Persisting, Safe Arrive.

Yet Once More, O Ye Laurels, And Once More Ye Myrtles Brown, With Ivy Never Sere, I Come To Pluck Your Berries Harsh And Crude, And With Forced Fingers Rude Shatter Your Leaves Before The Mellowing Year.

On A Sudden Open Fly With Impetuous Recoil And Jarring Sound Th' Infernal Doors, And On Their Hinges Grate Harsh Thunder.

Necessity And Chance Approach Not Me, And What I Will Is Fate.

And Fast By, Hanging In A Golden Chain, This Pendent World, In Bigness As A Star Of Smallest Magnitude, Close By The Moon.