Still Desiring, We Live Without Hope.

Imagination, That Dost So Abstract Us That We Are Not Aware, Not Even When A Thousand Trumpets Sound About Our Ears!

For Where The Instrument Of Intelligence Is Added To Brute Power And Evil Will, Mankind Is Powerless In Its Own Defense.

Ah! Justice Of Our God! Who Else Could Stow Such Travails New And Pains As Met My Glance!

Conscience, That Boon Companion Who Sets A Man Free Under The Strong Breastplate Of Innocence, That Bids Him On And Fear Not.

There Is A Gentle Thought That Often Springs To Life In Me, Because It Speaks Of You.