He That Hath Light Within Their Own

No Mighty Trance, Or Breathed Spell Inspires The Pale-eyed Priest From The Prophetic Cell.

Sufficient To Have Stood, Though Free To Fall.

So May'st Thou Live, Till Like Ripe Fruit Thou Drop Into Thy Mother's Lap, Or Be With Ease Gathered, Not Harshly Plucked, For Death Mature: This Is Old Age; But Then Thou Must Outlive Thy Youth, Thy Strength, Thy Beauty, Which Will Change To Withered Weak And Grey.

In Dim Eclipse, Disastrous Twilight Sheds On Half The Nations, And With Fear Of Change Perplexes Monarchs.

All Is Not Lost, The Unconquerable Will, And Study Of Revenge, Immortal Hate, And The Courage Never To Submit Or Yield.