The Devil Is Not As Black As

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.

As, Pricked Out With Less And Greater Lights, Between The Poles Of The Universe, The Milky Way So Gleameth White As To Set Very Sages Questioning.

No Sorrow Is Deeper Than The Remembrance Of Happiness When In Misery.

My Soul Tasted That Heavenly Food, Which Gives New Appetite While It Satiates.

…all Things Created Have An Order In Themselves, And This Begets The Form That Lets The Universe Resemble God.