Less Shame A Greater Fault Would Palliate.

Love, Who Insists That Love Shall Mutual Be, Link'd Me To Him With Charm Strong As Our Fates; Even Now It Leaves Me Not, As Thou Dost See.

But If, As Morning Rises, Dreams Are True.

There Sighs, Lamentations And Loud Wailings Resounded Through The Starless Air, So That At First It Made Me Weep; Strange Tongues, Horrible Language, Words Of Pain, Tones Of Anger, Voices Loud And Hoarse, And With These The Sound Of Hands, Made A Tumult Which Is Whirling Through That Air Forever Dark, And Sand Eddies In A Whirlwind.

And We Came Forth To Contemplate The Stars.

Your Fame Is As The Grass, Whose Hue Comes And Goes, And His Might Withers It By Whose Power It Sprang From The Lap Of The Earth.