Who Overcomes By Force, Hath

He Who Destroys A Good Book Kills Reason Itself.

And Looks Commercing With The Skies, Thy Rapt Soul Sitting In Thine Eyes.

Gratitude Bestows Reverence, Allowing Us To Encounter Everyday Epiphanies.

Now Came Still Evening On; And Twilight Gray Had In Her Sober Livery All Things Clad: Silence Accompanied; For Beast And Bird, They To They Grassy Couch, These To Their Nests, Were Slunk, All But The Wakeful Nightingale.

O Conscience, Into What Abyss Of Fears And Horrors Hast Thou Driven Me, Out Of Which I Find No Way, From Deep To Deeper Plunged.