What Is Death, So It Be But

Opinions Are Made To Be Changed Or How Is Truth To Be Got At?

Go Let Thy Less Than Woman's Hand Assume The Distaff Not The Brand.

The Dome Of Thought, The Palace Of The Soul.

Above Or Love, Hope, Hate Or Fear, It Lives All Passionless And Pure: An Age Shall Fleet Like Earthly Year; Its Years In Moments Shall Endure. Away, Away, Without A Wing, O'er All, Through All, Its Thought Shall Fly; A Nameless And Eternal Thing, Forgetting What It Was To Die.

He Who Is Only Just Is Cruel; Who Upon The Earth Would Live Were All Judged Justly?