What Seest Thou Else In The Dark

You Are Made Rather To Wonder At The Things You Hear Than To Work Any.

How Art Thou Out Of Breath When Thou Hast Breath To Say To Me That Thou Art Out Of Breath?

O War! Thou Son Of Hell!

It Is The Bright Day That Brings Forth The Adder, And That Craves Wary Walking.

Glory Is Like A Circle In The Water, Which Never Ceaseth To Enlarge Itself, Till, By Broad Spreading, It Disperse To Naught.