The Never-ending Flight Of Future Days.

Now The Bright Morning-star, Day's Harbinger, Comes Dancing From The East.

Capricious, Wanton, Bold, And Brutal Lust Is Meanly Selfish; When Resisted, Cruel; And, Like The Blast Of Pestilential Winds, Taints The Sweet Bloom Of Nature's Fairest Forms.

Seasoned Life Of Man Preserved And Stored Up In Books.

As In An Organ From One Blast Of Wind To Many A Row Of Pipes The Soundboard Breathes.

Just Are The Ways Of God, And Justifiable To Men; Unless There Be Who Think Not God At All.