This Was But A Prelude; Where Books

Graves They Say Are Warm'd By Glory; Foolish Words And Empty Story.

High In The Air Rises The Forest Of Oaks, High Over The Oaks Soar The Eagle, High Over The Eagle Sweep The Clouds, High Over The Clouds Gleam The Stars... High Over The Stars Sweep The Angels.

In Dark Ages People Are Best Guided By Religion, As In A Pitch-black Night A Blind Man Is The Best Guide; He Knows The Roads And Paths Better Than A Man Who Can See. When Daylight Comes, However, It Is Foolish To Use Blind, Old Men As Guides.

He Who Fears To Venture As Far As His Heart Urges And His Reason Permits, Is A Coward; He Who Ventures Further Than He Intended To Go, Is A Slave.

The Sea Appears All Golden. Beneath The Sun-lit Sky.