My Mother Groaned, My Father Wept, Into

The Busy Bee Has No Time For Sorrow.

We Are Here To Learn To Endure The Beams Of Love

Every Mortal Loss Is An Immortal Gain.

And Priests In Black Gowns Were Walking Their Rounds And Binding With Briars My Joys And Desires. (from 'the Garden Of Love')

Mutual Forgiveness Of Each Vice. Such Are The Gates Of Paradise.