I Sacrifice To No God Save Myself

O Lady, Nobility Is Thine, And Thy Form Is The Reflection Of Thy Nature!

Who Dares Not Speak His Free Thoughts Is A Slave.

Ignorance Of One's Misfortunes Is Clear Gain.

Surely Again, To Heal Men's Wounds By Music's Spell.

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.