Death Hath A Fairer Fame Than A

The Field Of Doom Bears Death As Its Harvest.

Success! To Thee, As To A God, Men Bend The Knee.

The Man Who Boldly Transgresses, Amassing A Great Heap Unjustly--by Force, In Time, He Will Strike His Sail, When Trouble Seizes Him As The Yardarm Is Splintered. He Calls On Those Who Hear Nothing And He Struggles In The Midst Of The Whirling Waters. The God Laughs At The Hot-headed Man, Seeing Him, Who Boasted That This Would Never Happen, Exhausted By Distress Without Remedy And Unable To Surmount The Cresting Wave. He Wrecks The Happiness Of His Earlier Life On The Reef Of Justice, And He Perishes Unwept, Unseen.

With Our Own Feathers, Not By Others' Hands, Are We Now Smitten.

Simple Is The Speech Of Truth.