Oh, Come Forth Into The Storm And

Possessing What We Still Were Unpossessed By, Possessed By What We Now No More Possessed.

Lord, I Have Loved Your Sky, Be It Said Against Or For Me, Have Loved It Clear And High, Or Low And Stormy...

To Time It Never Seems That He Is Brave To Set Himself Against The Peaks Of Snow To Lay Them Level With The Running Wave, Nor Is He Overjoyed When They Lie Low, But Only Grave, Contemplative And Grave.

End Is A Gloomy Word.

My Goal In Life Is To Unite My Avocation With My Vocation, As My Two Eyes Make One In Sight.