The Sun To Me Is Dark And

So He With Difficulty And Labour Hard Mov'd On, With Difficulty And Labour He.

Tis Chastity, My Brother, Chastity; She That Has That Is Clad In Complete Steel, And, Like A Quiver'd Nymph With Arrows Keen, May Trace Huge Forests, And Unharbour'd Heaths, Infamous Hills, And Sandy Perilous Wilds; Where, Through The Sacred Rays Of Chastity, No Savage Fierce, Bandite, Or Mountaineer, Will Dare To Soil Her Virgin Purity.

What Am I Pondering, You Ask? So Help Me God, Immortality.

Time Is The Subtle Thief Of Youth.

The Low'ring Element Scowls O'er The Darken'd Landscape.