There Are Nine-and-sixty Ways Of

This Is A Brief Life, But In Its Brevity It Offers Us Some Splendid Moments, Some Meaningful Adventures.

It Was The Forty-fathom Slumber That Clears The Soul And Eye And Heart, And Sends You To Breakfast Ravening.

As I Pass Through My Incarnations In Every Age And Race, I Make My Proper Prostrations To The Gods Of The Market-place. Peering Through Reverent Fingers I Watch Them Flourish And Fall, And The Gods Of The Copybook Headings, I Notice, Outlast Them All.

Not Only Do Words Infect, Egotize, Narcotize, And Paralyze, But They Enter Into And Colour The Minutest Cells Of The Brain. . . .

For The Strength Of The Pack Is The Wolf, And The Strength Of The Wolf Is The Pack.