I'll Tell You How The Sun Rose.

Further In Summer Than The Birds Pathetic From The Grass A Minor Nation Celebrates Its Unobtrusive Mass. No Ordinance Be Seen So Gradual The Grace A Pensive Custom It Becomes Enlarging Loneliness. Antiquest Felt At Noon When August Burning Low Arise This Spectral Canticle Repose To Typify Remit As Yet No Grace No Furrow On The Glow Yet A Druidic Difference Enhances Nature Now.

Earth Is A Merry Damsel, And Heaven A Knight So True

Initial Of Creation, And The Exponent Of Earth

His Mind Of Man, A Secret Makes I Meet Him With A Start He Carries A Circumference In Which I Have No Part.

My Friends Are My Estate. Forgive Me Then The Avarice To Hoard Them!