Men Would Be Angels, Angels Would Be

A Generous Friendship No Cold Medium Knows, Burns With One Love, With One Resentment Glows.

Love, Free As Air, At Sight Of Human Ties, Spreads His Light Wings, And In A Moment Flies.

A Perfect Woman's But A Softer Man.

Good-humor Only Teaches Charms To Last, Still Makes New Conquests And Maintains The Past.

When To The Permanent Is Sacrificed The Mutable, The Prize Is Thine: The Drop Returneth Whence It Came. The Open Path Leads To The Changeless Change - Non-being, The Glorious State Of Absoluteness, The Bliss Past Human Thought.