We Wear The Mask That Grins And

With Our Short Sight We Affect To Take A Comprehensive View Of Eternity. Our Horizon Is The Universe.

Hope Is Tenacious. It Goes On Living And Working When Science Has Dealt It What Should Be Its Deathblow.

The Age Is Materialistic. Verse Isn't. I Must Be With The Age, So I Am Writing Prose.

Poor Conceited Humanity! Interpreters Of God Indeed.

This, This Indeed Is To Be Accursed, For If We Mortals Love, Or If We Sing, We Count Our Joys Not By What We Have, But By What Kept Us From That Perfect Thing.