For The Impious Act Begets

Rumours Voiced By Women Come To Nothing.

Let There Be Wealth Without Tears; Enough For The Wise Man Who Will Ask No Further.

Nought Is There In Wealth That Serves As Bulwark 'gainst The Subtle Stealth Of Destiny And Doom.

The Moving Light, Rejoicing In Its Strength, Sped From The Pyre Of Pine, And Urged Its Way, In Golden Glory, Like Some Strange New Sun.

It Is Like A Woman Indeed To Take Rapture Before The Fact Is Shown For True. They Believe Too Easily, Are Too Quick To Shift From Ground To Ground; And Swift Indeed The Rumor Voiced By A Woman Dies Again.