There Is No Good In Arguing With

Earth Gets Its Price For What Earth Gives Us; The Beggar Is Taxed For A Corner To Die In, The Priest Hath His Fee Who Comes And Shrives Us, We Bargain For The Graves We Lie In; Each Ounce Of Dross Costs Its Ounce Of Gold... 't Is Heaven Alone That Is Given Away, 't Is Only God May Be Had For The Asking; There Is No Price Set On The Lavish Summer, And June May Be Had By The Poorest Comer.

Behind The Dim Unknown, Standeth God With The Shadow, Keeping Watch Above His Own.

Beauty Hath No True Glass, Except It Be In The Sweet Privacy Of Loving Eyes.

Tis As Easy To Be Heroes As To Sit The Idle Slaves.

Over Our Manhood Bend The Skies; Against Our Fallen And Traitor Lives The Great Winds Utter Prophecies; With Our Faint Hearts The Mountain Strives, Its Arms Outstretched, The Druid Wood Waits With Its Benedicite And To Our Age’s Drowsy Blood Still Shouts The Inspiring Sea.