As The Moths Around A Taper, As

Wall Must Get The Weather Stain Before They Grow The Ivy.

There Are Nettles Everywhere, But Smooth, Green Grasses Are More Common Still; The Blue Of Heaven Is Larger Than The Cloud.

Knowledge By Suffering Entereth, And Life Is Perfected By Death.

The Holy Night We Sate Among The Stalls At Bethlehem; The Dumb Kine From Their Fodder Turning Them, Softened Their Horned Faces To Almost Human Gazes Toward The Newly Born: The Simple Shepherds From The Star-lit Brooks Brought Visionary Looks, As Yet In Their Astonied Hearing Rung The Strange Sweet Angel-tongue: The Magi Of The East, In Sandals Worn, Knelt Reverent, Sweeping Round, With Long Pale Beards, Their Gifts Upon The Ground, The Incense, Myrrh, And Gold These Baby Hands Were Impotent To Hold: So Let All Earthlies And Celestials Wait Upon Thy Royal State. Sleep, Sleep, My Kingly One!

But Love Me For Love's Sake, That Evermore Thou May'st Love On, Through Love's Eternity.