How In The Turmoil Of Life Can

All Things Are Symbols.

O Thou Sculptor, Painter, Poet! Take This Lesson To Thy Heart: That Is Best Which Lieth Nearest; Shape From That Thy Work Of Art.

Look, Then, Into Thine Heart, And Write!

By Unseen Hands Uplifted In The Light Of Sunset, Yonder Solitary Cloud Floats, With Its White Apparel Blown Abroad, And Wafted Up To Heaven.

Time Is The Life Of The Soul.