Thy Friendship Oft Has Made My Heart

As A Man Is, So He Sees. As The Eye Is Formed, Such Are Its Powers.

He Whose Face Gives No Light, Shall Never Become A Star.

The Little Ones Leaped, And Shouted, And Laugh'd And All The Hills Echoed

O Autumn, Laden With Fruit, And Stained With The Blood Of The Grape, Pass Not, But Sit Beneath My Shady Roof; There Thou May'st Rest, And Tune Thy Jolly Voice To My Fresh Pipe; And All The Daughters Of The Year Shall Dance! Sing Now The Lusty Song Of Fruit And Flowers.

God Appears, And God Is Light, To Those Poor Souls Who Dwell In Night; But Does A Human Form Display To Those Who Dwell In Realms Of Day.