No More We Meet In Yonder Bowers

Between Two Worlds Life Hovers Like A Star, Twixt Night And Morn, Upon The Horizon's Verge.

'tis Solitude Should Teach Us How To Die; It Hath No Flatterers; Vanity Can Give, No Hollow Aid; Alone - Man With God Must Strive.

He Who Is Only Just Is Cruel; Who Upon The Earth Would Live Were All Judged Justly?

I Die But First I Have Possessed, And Come What May, I Have Been Blessed.

What Exile From Himself Can Flee? To Zones, Though More And More Remote, Still, Still Pursues, Where'er I Be, The Blight Of Life--the Demon Thought.