He Is Not A Lover Who Does

There Is Desire In Those Who Love To Hear About Their Loved Ones' Pains.

Reason Can Wrestle And Overthrow Terror.

He Is Life's Liberating Force. He Is Release Of Limbs And Communion Through Dance. He Is Laughter, And Music In Flutes. He Is Repose From All Cares -- He Is Sleep! When His Blood Bursts From The Grape And Flows Across Tables Laid In His Honor To Fuse With Our Blood, He Gently, Gradually, Wraps Us In Shadows Of Ivy-cool Sleep.

Lady, The Sun's Light To Our Eyes Is Dear, And Fair The Tranquil Reaches Of The Sea, And Flowery Earth In May, And Bounding Waters; And So Right Many Fair Things I Might Praise; Yet Nothing Is So Radiant And So Fair As For Souls Childless, With Desire Sore-smitten, To See The Light Of Babes About The House.

Courage May Be Taught As A Child Us Taught To Speak.