Love, That All Gentle Hearts So Quickly

Be Like A Solid Tower Whose Brave Height Remains Unmoved By All The Winds That Blow; The Man Who Lets His Thoughts Be Turned Aside By One Thing Or Another, Will Lose Sight Of His True Goal, His Mind Sapped Of Its Strength.

There Are Souls Beneath That Water. Fixed In Slimethey Speak Their Piece, End It, And Start Again:'sullen Were We In The Air Made Sweet By The Sun;in The Glory Of His Shining Our Hearts Poureda Bitter Smoke. Sullen Were We Begun;sullen We Lie Forever In This Ditch.'this Litany They Gargle In Their Throatsas If They Sand, But Lacked The Words And Pitch.

He Who Know Most Grieves Most For Wasted Time.

Doubting Pleases Me No Less Than Knowing

Like The Lark That Soars In The Air, First Singing, Then Silent, Content With The Last Sweetness That Satiates It, Such Seemed To Me That Image, The Imprint Of The Eternal Pleasure.