Above Our Life We Love A Steadfast

I Count Religion But A Childish Toy, And Hold There Is No Sin But Ignorance.

It Is A Comfort To The Miserable To Have Comrades In Misfortune, But It Is A Poor Comfort After All.

Time Doth Run With Calm And Silent Foot, Shortening My Days And Thread Of Vital Life.

Was This The Face That Launched A Thousand Ships, And Burnt The Topless Towers Of Ileum?

That Perfect Bliss And Sole Felicity, The Sweet Fruition Of An Earthly Crown.