How Do You Know But Ev’ry Bird

O Thou With Dewy Locks, Who Lookest Down Thro' The Clear Windows Of The Morning, Turn Thine Angel Eyes Upon Our Western Isle, Which In Full Choir Hails Thy Approach, O Spring! The Hills Tell Each Other, And The Listening Valleys Hear; All Our Longing Eyes Are Turned Up To Thy Bright Pavilions: Issue Forth, And Let Thy Holy Feet Visit Our Clime. Come O'er The Eastern Hills, And Let Our Winds Kiss Thy Perfumed Garments; Let Us Taste Thy Morn And Evening Breath; Scatter Thy Pearls Upon Our Love-sick Land That Mourns For Thee.

Bring Me My Bow Of Burning Gold: Bring Me My Arrows Of Desire: Bring Me My Spear: O Clouds, Unfold! Bring Me My Chariot Of Fire.

Wisdom Is Sold In A Desolate Marketplace Where None Can Come To Buy.

I Have Mental Joys And Mental Health, Mental Friends And Mental Wealth, I've A Wife That I Love And That Loves Me; I've All But Riches Bodily.

Kill Not The Moth Nor Butterfly, For The Last Judgement Draweth Nigh.