I Sacrifice To No God Save Myself

We Know The Good, We Apprehend It Clearly; But We Can't Bring It To Achievement.

How Sweet To Remember The Trouble That Is Past.

Who Knoweth If To Die Be But To Live, And That Called Life By Mortals Be But Death?

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.

Short Is The Joy That Guilty Pleasure Brings.