Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More

He Who Sees A Need And Waits To Be Asked For Help Is As Unkind As If He Had Refused It.

Nature Is The Art Of God.

If Thou Follow Thy Star, Thou Canst Not Fail Of Glorious Heaven.

At The Midpoint On The Journey Of Life, I Found Myself In A Dark Forest, For The Clear Path Was Lost.

There, Pride, Avarice, And Envy Are The Tongues Men Know And Heed, A Babel Of Depsair