Beautiful In Form And Feature, Lovely As

Midnight! The Outpost Of Advancing Day! The Frontier Town And Citadel Of Night!

There Is No Death! What Seems So Is Transition; This Life Of Mortal Breath Is But A Suburb Of The Life Elysian, Whose Portal We Call Death.

We Are All Architects Of Faith, Ever Living In These Walls Of Time.

Ah Me! What Wonder-working, Occult Science Can From The Ashes In Our Hearts Once More The Rose Of Youth Restore? What Craft Of Alchemy Can Bid Defiance To Time And Change, And For A Single Hour Renew This Phantom-flower?

Who Dares To Say That He Alone Has Found The Truth?