I'll Meet The Raging Of

The Proud, The Cold Untroubled Heart Of Stone, That Never Mused On Sorrow But Its Own.

O Leave This Barren Spot To Me! Spare, Woodman, Spare The Beechen Tree.

For Beauty's Tears Are Lovelier Than Her Smile.

Tis Distance Lends Enchantment To The View, And Robes The Mountain In Its Azure Hue.

Your Belief Systems Limit Your Reality To A Sub-set Of The Solution Space That Does Not Contain The Answer.