I Am Satisfied To Trifle Away My

Is There No Bright Reversion In The Sky, For Those Who Greatly Think Or Bravely Die?

Calm, Thinking Villains, Whom No Faith Could Fix, Of Crooked Counsels And Dark Politics.

Chiefs Who No More In Bloody Fights Engage, But Wise Through Time, And Narrative With Age, In Summer-days Like Grasshoppers Rejoice - A Bloodless Race, That Send A Feeble Voice.

When To The Permanent Is Sacrificed The Mutable, The Prize Is Thine: The Drop Returneth Whence It Came. The Open Path Leads To The Changeless Change - Non-being, The Glorious State Of Absoluteness, The Bliss Past Human Thought.

If I Am Right, Thy Grace Impart Still In The Right To Stay; If I Am Wrong, O, Teach My Heart To Find That Better Way!