Not A Single Path Of Thought I

All Things That Speak Of Heaven Speak Of Peace.

Could I Love Less, I Should Be Happier Now.

The Sun, Centre And Sire Of Light, The Keystone Of The World-built Arch Of Heaven.

Remember That Thy Heart Will Shed Its Pleasures As Thine Eye Its Tears, And Both Leave Loathsome Furrows.

Burn To Be Great, Pay Not Thy Praise To Lofty Things Alone. The Plains Are Everlasting As The Hills, The Bard Cannot Have Two Pursuits; Aught Else Comes On The Mind With The Like Shock As Though Two Worlds Had Gone To War, And Met In Air.