There Is Only One Woman In The

Monarch Of Earth, I Shall Confess My Secret Craft: I've Always Fought To Purify Wild Flame To Light, And Kindle Whatever Light I Found To Burst In Flame.

The Highest Point A Man Can Attain Is Not Knowledge, Or Virtue, Or Goodness, Or Victory, But Something Even Greater, More Heroic And More Despairing: Sacred Awe!

Everything In This World Has A Hidden Meaning.

A Slave's Soul Has No Worth, My Brothers; It Lacks Strength To Tread On This Great Earth With Gallantry And Freedom. I Pity The Poor Slaves, They're Nought But Airy Mist, A Light Breeze Scatters Them, A Fragrance Knocks Them Down; It's Only Just They Crawl On The Earth On Hands And Knees. Today I'll Write A Hymn To God And Pray For This Great Grace.

So Few In Reality Are The True Necessities Of Man