The Song Of The Voice Is Sweet,

And If There Come The Singers, And The Dancers And The Flute Players - Buy Of Their Gifts Also. For They Too Are Gatherers Of Fruit And Frankincense, And That Which They Bring, Though Fashioned Of Dreams, Is Raiment And Fod For Your Soul.

Poverty Is A Veil That Obscures The Face Of Greatness. An Appeal Is A Mask Covering The Face Of Tribulation.

The Soul Is An Embryo In The Body Of Man, And The Day Of Death Is The Day Of Awakening, For It Is The Great Era Of Labour And The Rich Hour Of Creation.

For To Be Idle Is To Become A Stranger Unto The Seasons, And To Step Out Of Life’s Procession That Marches In Majesty And Proud Submission Towards The Infinite.

The Sun Teaches To All Things That Grow Their Longing For The Light. But It Is Night That Raises Them To The Stars.