Ride The Air In Whirlwind.

Nor From Hell One Step No More Than From Himself Can Fly By Change Of Place.

Hope Elevates, And Joy Brightens His Crest.

And Feel By Turns The Bitter Change Of Fierce Extremes, Extremes By Change More Fierce.

Ink Is The Blood Of The Printing-press.

Did I Request Thee, Maker, From My Clay To Mould Me Man? Did I Solicit Thee From Darkness To Promote Me?