The Psychological And Moral Comfort Of A

Teas, Where Small Talk Dies In Agonies.

The Awful Shadow Of Some Unseen Power Floats, Tho' Unseen, Amongst Us.

The Crime Of Inquiry Is One Which Religion Never Has Forgiven.

O Cease! Must Hate And Death Return, Cease! Must Men Kill And Die? Cease! Drain Not To Its Dregs The Urn Of Bitter Prophecy. The World Is Weary Of The Past, Oh, Might It Die Or Rest At Last!

That Orbed Maiden, With White Fire Laden, Whom Mortals Call The Moon.