The Poet Lights The Light And Fades

Find Ecstasy In Life; The Mere Sense Of Living Is Joy Enough.

A Word That Breathes Distinctly Has Not The Power To Die

Tis Not That Dieing Hurts Us So- Tis Living- Hurts Us More.

Beauty Is Not Caused, It Is; Chase It And It Ceases, Chase It Not And It Abides.

Nothing More Do I Ask Than To Share With You The Ecstasy And Sacrament Of My Life.