Matrimony; The High Sea For Which No

Every Age Thinks Its Battle The Most Important Of All.

But A Day Must Come When The Fire Of Youth Will Be Quenched In My Veins, When Winter Will Dwell In My Heart, When His Snow Flakes Will Whiten My Locks, And His Mists Will Dim My Eyes. Then My Friends Will Lie In Their Lonely Grave, And I Alone Will Remain Like A Solitary Stalk Forgotten By The Reaper.

Whenever Books Are Burned, Men Also In The End Are Burned.

Glow-worms On The Ground Are Moving, As If In The Torch-dance Circling.

The Beauteous Eyes Of The Spring's Fair Night With Comfort Are Downward Gazing.