The Wind Breathes Not, And The Wave

We Love And Live In Power; It Is The Spirit's End. Mind Must Subdue; To Conquer Is Its Life.

As The Master So The Valet.

Corruption Springs From Light: 'tis One Same Power Creates, Preserves, Destroys; Matter Whereon It Works, On E'er Self-transmutative Form, Common To Now The Living, Now The Dead.

Youth Might Be Wise; We Suffer Less From Pains Than Pleasures.

For Ivy Climbs The Crumbling Hall To Decorate Decay.