Happy Art Thou, As If

The Soul...is Audible, Not Visible.

The Natural Alone Is Permanent.

Buried Was The Bloody Hatchet; Buried Was The Dreadful War-club; Buried Were All Warlike Weapons, And The War-cry Was Forgotten. Then Was Peace Among The Nations.

The Story, From Beginning To End, I Found Again In A Heart Of A Friend.

Our Ingress Into The World Was Naked And Bare; Our Progress Through The World Is Trouble And Care.