Joy, Once Lost, Is Pain

It Is Only By Hearsay (by Word Of Mouth Passed Down From Generation To Generation) That Whole Peoples Adore The God Of Their Fathers And Of Their Priests: Authority, Confidence, Submission And Custom With Them Take The Place Of Conviction Or Of Proofs: They Prostrate Themselves And Pray, Because Their Fathers Taught Them To Prostrate Themselves And Pray: But Why Did Their Fathers Fall On Their Knees?

Familiar Acts Are Beautiful Through Love.

I See The Waves Upon The Shore, Like Light Dissolved In Star-showers, Thrown.

As Long As Skies Are Blue, And Fields Are Green Evening Must Usher Night, Night Urge The Morrow, Month Follow Month With Woe, And Year Wake Year To Sorrow

The Awful Shadow Of Some Unseen Power Floats, Tho' Unseen, Amongst Us.