Without Contraries There Is No Progression.

To Mercy, Pity, Peace And Love All Pray In Their Distress, And To These Virtues Of Delight Return Their Thankfulness.

May God Us Keep From Single Vision And Newton's Sleep.

Like A Fiend In A Cloud, With Howling Woe, After Night I Do Crowd, And With Night Will Go; I Turn My Back To The East, From Whence Comforts Have Increased; For Light Doth Seize My Brain With Frantic Pain.

Bring Me My Bow Of Burning Gold: Bring Me My Arrows Of Desire: Bring Me My Spear: O Clouds, Unfold! Bring Me My Chariot Of Fire.

Mans Desires Are Limited By His Perceptions; None Can Desire What He Has Not Perceived.