The Way Was Long, The Wind Was

The Book Of Books Within This Ample Volume Lies The Mystery Of Mysteries. Happiest They Of Human Race To Whom Their God Has Given Grace To Read, To Fear, To Hope, To Pray, To Lift The Latch, To Force The Way; But Better Had They Ne'er Been Born That Read To Doubt Or Read To Scorn.

For Love Is Heaven And Heaven Is Love.

Then Hush Thee, My Darling, Take Rest While You May, For Strife Comes With Manhood, And Waking With Day.

I Was Not Always A Man Of Woe.

Those Who Are Too Idle To Read, Save For The Purpose Of Amusement, May In These Works Acquire Some Acquaintance With History, Which, However Inaccurate, Is Better Than None.