Which Way I Fly Is Hell; Myself

To Know That Which Lies Before Us In Daily Life Is The Prime Wisdom.

So Sinks The Day-star In The Ocean Bed, And Yet Anon Repairs His Drooping Head, And Tricks His Beams, And With New-spangled Ore Flames In The Forehead Of The Morning Sky.

Who Knows Not Circe, The Daughter Of The Sun , Whose Charmed Cup Whoever Tasted, Lost His Upright Shape, And Downward Fell Into A Groveling Swine?

From His Lips/not Words Alone Pleased Her.

Only This I Know, That One Celestial Father Gives To All.