Always Imitate The Behaviour Of

Earth, The Mother Of All, Moves On Her Stedfast Way, Gathering, Flinging, Sowing. Mortals, We Live In Her Day, She In Her Children Is Growing.

O Have A Care Of Natures That Are Mute!

Days, When The Ball Of Our Vision Had Eagles That Flew Unabashed To Sun; When The Graps On The Bow Was Decision, And Arrow And Hand And Eye Were One; When The Pleasures, Like Waves To A Swimmer, Came Heaving For Rapture Ahead! - Invoke Them, They Dwindle, They Glimmer As Lights Over Mounds Of The Dead.

There Is Nothing The Body Suffers Which The Soul May Not Profit By.

And If I Drink Oblivion Of A Day, / So Shorten I The Stature Of My Soul.