Our State Cannot Be Severed, We Are

Innocence, Once Lost, Can Never Be Regained. Darkness, Once Gazed Upon, Can Never Be Lost.

Such As The Meeting Soul May Pierce, In Notes With Many A Winding Bout Of Linked Sweetness Long Drawn Out.

Where Glowing Embers Through The Room Teach Light To Counterfeit A Gloom.

They Are The Troublers, They Are The Dividers Of Unity, Who Neglect And Don't Permit Others To Unite Those Dissevered Pieces Which Are Yet Wanting To The Body Of Truth.

With Cowslips Wan That Hang The Pensive Head, And Every Flower That Sad Embroidery Wears.