My Course Is Set For

O Faithful Conscience, Delicately Pure, How Doth A Little Failing Wound Thee Sore!

I Affirm That Gain Is Precisely That Which Comes Oftener To The Bad Man Than To The Good; For Illegitimate Gains Never Come To The Good At All, Because They Reject Them. And Lawful Gains Rarely Come To The Good, Because, Since Much Anxious Care Is Needful Thereto, And The Anxious Care Of The Good Man Is Directed To Weightier Matters, Rarely Does The Good Man Give Sufficient Attention Thereto. Wherefore It Is Clear That In Every Way The Advent Of These Riches Is Iniquitous.

O You Proud Christians, Wretched Souls And Small,/ Who By The Dim Lights Of Your Twisted Minds/ Believe You Prosper Even As You Fall,/ Can You Not See That We Are Worms, Each One/ Born To Become The Angelic Butterfly/ That Flies Defenseless To The Judgement Throne?

Like The Lark That Soars In The Air, First Singing, Then Silent, Content With The Last Sweetness That Satiates It, Such Seemed To Me That Image, The Imprint Of The Eternal Pleasure.

Midway In Our Life's Journey, I Went Astray From The Straight Road And Woke To Find Myself Alone In A Dark Wood.