Your House Shall Be Not

Wake At Dawn With A Winged Heart And Give Thanks For Another Day Of Loving.

Love Passes By Us, Robed In Meekness; But We Flee From Her In Fear, Or Hide In The Darkness; Or Else Pursue Her, To Do Evil In Her Name.

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

I Have Learned Silence From The Talkative, Toleration From The Intolerant, And Kindness From The Unkind; Yet, Strange, I Am Ungrateful To Those Teachers.

The Highest Virtue Here May Be Least In Another World.