Love Passes By Us, Robed

And Let The Winds Of The Heavens Dance Between You.

Is Not Dread Of Thirst When Your Well Is Full, The Thirst That Is Unquenchable?

The Envier Praises Me Unknowingly.

Youth Is A Beautiful Dream, On Whose Brightness Books Shed A Blinding Dust. Will Ever The Day Come When The Wise Link The Joy Of Knowledge To Youth's Dream? Will Ever The Day Come When Nature Becomes The Teacher Of Man, Humanity His Book And Life His School? Youth's Joyous Purpose Cannot Be Fulfilled Until That Day Comes. Too Slow Is Our March Toward Spiritual Elevation, Because We Make So Little Use Of Youth's Ardor.

For In Truth It Is Life That Gives Unto Life-while You, Who Deem Yourself A Giver, Are But A Witness.