These Are Thy Glorious Works, Parent Of

For What Can War, But Endless War, Still Breed?

Son Of Heav'n And Earth, Attend: That Thou Art Happy, Owe To God; That Thou Continuest Such, Owe To Thyself, That Is, To Thy Obedience; Therein Stand.

A Thousand Fantasies Begin To Throng Into My Memory, Of Calling Shapes, And Beckoning Shadows Dire, And Airy Tongues That Syllable Men's Names On Sands And Shores And Desert Wildernesses

Fate Shall Yield To Fickle Chance, And Chaos Judge The Strife.

I Must Not Quarrel With The Will Of Highest Dispensation, Which Herein, Haply Had Ends Above My Reach To Know.