The Reward Of Pain Is

Old Men, What Are They? Fast Fading The Leaf, Three-footed They Walk, Yet Frail As A Child, As A Dream Set Afloat In The Daylight.

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.

Every Ruler Is Harsh Whose Laws Is New.

Obedience, You Know, Is Good Luck's Mother, Wedded To Salvation, They Say.

Once To Die Is Better Than Length Of Days In Sorrow Without End.