The Greater I Am, The Greater Shall

Hope Is Incredible To The Slave Of Grief.

I Have Taken Pride In Others, Never In Myself.

Those Spacious Regions Where Our Fancies Roam, Pain'd By The Past, Expecting Ills To Come, In Some Dread Moment, By The Fates Assign'd, Shall Pass Away, Nor Leave A Rack Behind; And Time's Revolving Wheels Shall Lose At Last The Speed That Spins The Future And The Past: And, Sovereign Of An Undisputed Throne, Awful Eternity Shall Reign Alone.

I Saw The Tracks Of Angels In The Earth: The Beauty Of Heaven Walking By Itself On The World.

Often On Earth The Gentlest Heart Is Fain To Feed And Banquet On Another's Woe.