Let None Think To Fly

Like To The Apples On The Dead Sea's Shore, All Ashes To The Taste.

By Headless Charles See Heartless Henry Lies.

Eternity Forbids Thee To Forget.

There's Music In The Sighing Of A Reed; There's Music In The Gushing Of A Rill; There's Music In All Things, If Men Had Ears; The Earth Is But The Music Of The Spheres.

As Long As I Retain My Feeling And My Passion For Nature, I Can Partly Soften Or Subdue My Other Passions And Resist Or Endure Those Of Others.