From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be That no life lives for ever; That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Is not Precedent indeed a King of men? A Word from the Psalmist.

Who knows but on their sleep may rise Such light as never heaven let through To lighten earth from Paradise?

Faith speaks when hope is disassembled; faith lives when hope dies dead.

The beast faith lives on its own dung.

Love, till dawn sunder night from day with fire Dividing my delight and my desire.

There is no safety-net to protect against attraction.