Your Body Is The Harp Of The

Have You Not Heard Of The Man Who Was Digging In The Earth For Roots And Found A Treasure?

Your Body Is The Harp Of The Soul.

In Every Winter's Heart There Is A Quivering Spring, And Behind The Veil Of Each Night There Is A Shining Dawn.

You May Chain My Hands, You May Shackle My Feet; You May Even Throw Me Into A Dark Prison; But You Shall Not Enslave My Thinking, Because It Is Free!

They Have Exiled Me Now From Their Society And I Am Pleased, Because Humanity Does Not Exile Except The One Whose Noble Spirit Rebels Against Despotism And Oppression. He Who Does Not Prefer Exile To Slavery Is Not Free By Any Measure Of Freedom