Do Ye Hear The Children Weeping, O

Souls Are Dangerous Things To Carry Straight Through All The Spilt Saltpetre Of This World.

I Love Thee Freely, As Men Strive For Right. I Love Thee Purely, As They Turn From Praise. I Love Thee With The Passion Put To Use

What Monster Have We Here? A Great Deed At This Hour Of Day? A Great Just Deed - And Not For Pay? Absurd - Or Insincere?

But The Child's Sob Curses Deeper In The Silence Than The Strong Man In His Wrath!

A Man May Love A Woman Perfectly, And Yet By No Means Ignorantly Maintain A Thousand Women Have Not Larger Eyes. Enough That She Alone Has Looked At Him With Eyes That, Large Or Small, Have Won His Soul.