A Vein Of Poetry Exists In The

Society Is Founded Upon Cloth.

Without Oblivion, There Is No Remembrance Possible. When Both Oblivion And Memory Are Wise, When The General Soul Of Man Is Clear, Melodious, True, There May Come A Modern Iliad As Memorial Of The Past.

Speech Is Of Time, Silence Is Of Eternity.

All Human Souls, Never So Bedarkened, Love Light; Light Once Kindled Spreads Till All Is Luminous.

History Is The New Poetry.