The Man Of Science Is

Not Till The Fire Is Dying In The Grate, Look We For Any Kinship With The Stars.

For Singing Till His Heaven Fills, 'tis Love Of Earth That He Instills, And Ever Winging Up And Up, Our Valley Is His Golden Cup, And He The Wine Which Over Flows To Lift Us With Him As He Goes.

Who Rises From Prayer A Better Man, His Prayer Is Answered.

Speech Is The Small Change Of Silence.

Perfect Simplicity Is Unconsciously Audacious.