O Conscience, Upright And Stainless,

I Did Not Die, And Yet I Lost Life’s Breath

Come, Follow Me, And Leave The World To Its Babblings.

Nature Is The Art Of God.

What Shall One Do With The Verse, If He Knows Not That?

As, Pricked Out With Less And Greater Lights, Between The Poles Of The Universe, The Milky Way So Gleameth White As To Set Very Sages Questioning.