Awake, My Little Ones, And

Up From Earth's Centre Through The Seventh Gate Rose, And On The Throne Of Saturn Sate; And Many A Knot Unravel'd By The Road; But Not The Master-knot Of Human Fate.

Ah Love! Could You And I With Him Conspire To Grasp This Sorry Scheme Of Things Entire Would We Not Shatter It To Bits-and Then Re-mould It Nearer To The Heart's Desire?

We Are Thinking About Bad Only Those Who Are Worse Than We Are, And Those Who Are Better Than Us ... I'm Just Not Up To Us ... One Does Not Follow It Than Smell Roses. Another Of The Bitter Herbs Will Produce Honey. Give Bread To One - Will Remember Forever. Another Life Donation - Do Not Understand.

Come, Fill The Cup, And In The Fire Of Spring The Winter Garment Of Repentance Fling: The Bird Of Time Has But A Little Way To Fly-and Lo! The Bird Is On The Wing.

I Wonder What The Vintners Buy One Half So Precious As The Stuff They Sell.