The Lamb Misused Breeds Public

This Life's Dim Windows Of The Soul Distorts The Heavens From Pole To Pole And Leads You To Believe A Lie When You See With, Not Through, The Eye.

He Who Wants, But Doesn't Act, Is A Pest.

Bring Me An Axe And Spade, Bring Me A Winding-sheet; When I My Grave Have Made Let Winds And Tempests Beat: Then Down I'll Lie As Cold As Clay. True Love Doth Pass Away!

How Do You Know But Ev’ry Bird That Cuts The Airy Way, Is An Immense World Of Delight, Clos’d By Your Senses Five?

Why Stand We Here Trembling Around, Calling On God For Help, And Not Ourselves, In Whom God Dwells?