. . . The Weal Of The

I Have Known The Silence Of The Stars And Of The Sea. And The Silence Of The City When It Pauses, And The Silence Of A Man And A Maid, And The Silence For Which Music Alone Finds The Word.

He Stripped Off The Armor Of Institutional Friendships To Dedictate His Soul To The Terrible Deities Of Truth And Beauty.

Those Who First Oppose A Good Work, Seize It And Make It Their Own, When The Cornerstone Is Laid And Memorial Tablets Are Erected.

Why, A Moral Truth Is A Hollow Tooth Which Must Be Propped With Gold.

The Soul Of The River Had Entered My Soul, And The Gathered Power Of My Soul Was Moving So Swiftly, It Seemed To Be At Rest Under Cities Of Cloud And Under Spheres Of Silver And Changing Worlds Until I Saw A Flash Of Trumpets Above The Battlements Over Time!