It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since God suffers him to be, He too, is God's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood.

Midnight! the outpost of advancing day! The frontier town and citadel of night!

To be left alone, and face to face with my own crime, had been just retribution.

The prayer of Ajax was for light.

Nothing that is can pause or stay; / The moon will wax, the moon will wane, / The mist and cloud will turn to rain, / The rain to mist and cloud again, / Tomorrow be today.

Glorious indeed is the world of God around us, but more glorious the world of God within us.

Music is the language spoken by angels.