Such Phantom Blossoms Palely Shining Over The

The Soul Of The River Had Entered My Soul, And The Gathered Power Of My Soul Was Moving So Swiftly, It Seemed To Be At Rest Under Cities Of Cloud And Under Spheres Of Silver And Changing Worlds Until I Saw A Flash Of Trumpets Above The Battlements Over Time!

I Have Known The Silence Of The Stars And Of The Sea. And The Silence Of The City When It Pauses, And The Silence Of A Man And A Maid, And The Silence For Which Music Alone Finds The Word.

This Is Darrow, Inadequately Scrawled, With His Young, Old Heart, And His Drawl, And His Infinite Paradox And His Sadness, And Kindness, And His Artist Sense That Drives Him To Shape His Life To Something Harmonious, Even Against The Schemes Of God.

The Much-sought Prize Of Eternal Youth Is Just Arrested Growth.

What Is This I Hear Of Sorrow And Weariness, Anger, Discontent And Drooping Hopes? Degenerate Sons And Daughters, Life Is Too Strong For You— It Takes Life To Love Life.