The Laws Of Nature Are Just, But

There Rises The Moon, Broad And Tranquil, Through The Branches Of A Walnut Tree On A Hill Opposite. I Apostrophize It In The Words Of Faust; "o Gentle Moon, That Lookest For The Last Time Upon My Agonies!" --or Something To That Effect.

A Boy's Will Is The Wind's Will, And The Thought's Of Youth Are Long, Long Thoughhts

And The Night Shall Be Filled With Music, And The Cares, That Infest The Day, Shall Fold Their Tents Like The Arabs, And Silently Steal Away.

Art Is The Gift Of God, And Must Be Used Unto His Glory.

When You Ask One Friend To Dine, Give Him Your Best Wine! When You Ask Two, The Second Best Will Do!