I Fear No Man, No Woman; Flower

Not God With Wine, Nor Death, Nor Hate For A Cry, But God With A Song

O Do Not Weep, She Says, For Ages Past I Was And I Endure

O Happy, Happy Each Man Whom Predestined Fate Leads To The Holy Rite Of Hill And Mountain Worship.

The Whole White World Is Ours.

The Laying Of Fish On The Embers, The Taste Of The Fish, The Feel Of The Texture Of Bread, The Round And The Half-loaf, The Grain Of A Petal, The Rain-bow And The Rain.