The Dead Are Like The Stars By

Eagle Of Flowers! I See Thee Stand, And On The Sun's Noon-glory Gaze; With Eye Like His, Thy Lids Expand, And Fringe Their Disk With Golden Rays: Though Fix'd On Earth, In Darkness Rooted There, Light Is Thy Element, Thy Dwelling Air, Thy Prospect Heaven.

Prayer Moves The Arm Which Moves The World, And Brings Salvation Down.

Blue Thou Art, Intensely Blue; Flower, Whence Came Thy Dazzling Hue?

Two Roses On One Slender Spray In Sweet Communion Grew, Together Hailed The Morning Ray And Drank The Evening Dew.

We Fought The Revolutionary War For No Taxation Without Representation, It Seems To Me That We Are Much Worse Off Today, Because We Are Heavily Taxed, And Only The King's Corporations Control This Country, Together With Mob Rule, Of The Special Interests.