O Have A Care Of Natures That

Sunrays, Leaning On Our Southern Hills And Lighting Wild Cloud-mountains That Drag The Hills Along, Oft Ends The Day Of Your Shifting Brilliant Laughter Chill As A Dull Face Frowning On A Song. Ay, But Shows The South-west A Ripple-feathered Bosom Blown To Silver While The Clouds Are Shaken And Ascend Scaling The Mid-heavens As They Stream, There Comes A Sunset Rich, Deep Like Love In Beauty Without End.

We Are Betrayed By What Is False Within

Could I Find A Place To Be Alone With Heaven, I Would Speak My Heart Out Heaven Is My Need.

The Stench Of The Trail Of Ego In Our History. It Is Ego - Ego, The Fountain Cry, Origin, Sole Source Of War.

She Whom I Love Is Hard To Catch And Conquer, Hard, But O The Glory Of The Winning Were She Won!