Ah! Justice Of Our God!

O Power Of Fantasy That Steals Our Minds From Things Outside, To Leave Us Unaware, Although A Thousand Trumpets May Blow Loud--what Stirs You If The Senses Show You Nothing? Light Stirs You, Formed In Heaven, By Itself, Or By His Will Who Sends It Down To Us.

Consider The Sea's Listless Chime: Time's Self It Is, Made Audible.

He Who Know Most Grieves Most For Wasted Time.

If Thou Follow Thy Star, Thou Canst Not Fail Of Glorious Heaven.

Do Not Desert Me When I Need You Most. And If We Can't Go On Together, Let's Retrace Our Steps As Quickly As We Can.