It Were A Journey Like The Path

Sable-vested Night, Eldest Of Things.

Our State Cannot Be Severed, We Are One, One Flesh; To Lose Thee Were To Lose Myself.

And In Their Motions Harmony Divine So Smoothes Her Charming Tones, That God's Own Ear Listens Delighted.

First Moloch, Horrid King, Besmirched In Blood, Of Human Sacrifice, And Parent's Tears, Though, For The Noise Of Drums And Timbrels Loud, Their Childrens' Cries Unheard, That Passed Through Fire, To His Grim Idol.

Zeal And Duty Are Not Slow But On Occasion's Forelock Watchful Wait.