Therefore I Summon Age / To Grant

Rejoice That Man Is Hurled, From Change To Change Unceasingly, His Soul's Wings Never Furled!

God Smiles As He Has Always Smiled; Ere Suns And Moons Could Wax And Wane, Ere Stars Were Thundergirt, Or Piled The Heavens, God Thought On Me His Child; Ordained A Life For Me, Arrayed Its Circumstances, Every One To The Minutest; Ay, God Said This Head This Hand Should Rest Upon Thus, Ere He Fashioned Star Or Sun.

He Guides Me And The Bird. In His Good Time!

Progress Is The Law Of Life: Man Is Not Man As Yet.

And I Have Written Three Books On The Soul, Proving Absurd All Written Hitherto, And Putting Us To Ignorance Again.