The Society Of Women Is The Element

Enjoy What Thou Has Inherited From Thy Sires If Thou Wouldn't Really Possess It. What We Employ And Use Is Never An Oppressive Burden; What The Moment Brings Forth, That Only Can It Profit By.

The Soul-stirring Image Of Death Is No Bugbear To The Sage, And Is Looked On Without Despair By The Pious. It Teaches The Former To Live, And It Strengthens The Hopes Of The Latter In Salvation In The Midst Of Distress. Death Is New Life To Both.

What Is Now The Foliage Moving? Air Is Still, And Hush'd The Breeze, Sultriness, This Fullness Loving, Through The Thicket, From The Trees. Now The Eye At Once Gleams Brightly, See! The Infant Band With Mirth Moves And Dances Nimbly, Lightly, As The Morning Gave It Birth, Flutt'ring Two And Two O'er Earth.

Poor Fool! In Whose Petty Estimation All Things Are Little.

To Know Where A Thing Is We Must Have Found It.