An Angel Stood And Met My Gaze,

Joy Comes, Grief Goes, We Know Not How.

And The Poorest Twig On The Elm-tree Was Ridged Inch Deep With Pearl.

The Pale And Quiet Moon Makes Her Calm Forehead Bare, And The Last Fragments Of The Storm, Like Shattered Rigging From A Fight At Sea, Silent And Few, Are Drifting Over Me.

Those Who Know The Truth Are Not Equal To Those Who Love It Confucius All Truth Is Safe And Nothing Else Is Safe, But He Who Keeps Back Truth, Or Withholds It From Men, From Motives Of Expediency, Is Either A Coward Or A Criminal.

To Win The Secret Of A Weed's Plain Heart.