Souls Are Dangerous Things To

Earth's Crammed With Heaven, And Every Common Bush Afire With God: But Only He Who Sees Takes Off His Shoes.

Measure Not The Work Until The Day's Out And The Labor Done.

But Love Me For Love's Sake, That Evermore Thou May'st Love On, Through Love's Eternity.

Pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead! Pan, Pan Is Dead!

With Stammering Lips And Insufficient Sound I Strive And Struggle To Deliver Right The Music Of My Nature.