Praise From An Enemy Smells Of Craft.

Retiring From The Popular Noise, I Seek This Unfrequented Place To Find Some Ease.

No Institution Which Does Not Continually Test Its Ideals, Techniques And Measure Of Accomplishment Can Claim Real Vitality.

And On The Tree Of Life, The Middle Tree And Highest There That Grew, Sat Like A Cormorant.

First Moloch, Horrid King, Besmirched In Blood, Of Human Sacrifice, And Parent's Tears, Though, For The Noise Of Drums And Timbrels Loud, Their Childrens' Cries Unheard, That Passed Through Fire, To His Grim Idol.

Pandemonium, The High Capital Of Satan And His Peers.