The True Wealth Of A Nation Lies

You, The Strong, Have I Loved, Though The Marks Of Your Iron Hoofs Are Yet Upon My Flesh.

Your Joy Is Your Sorrow Unmasked.

Your Reason And Your Passion Are Your Rudder And Sails Of Your Seafaring Soul, If Either Your Sails Or Your Rudder Be Broken, You Can But Toss And Drift, Or Else Be Held At A Standstill In Mid-seas. For Reason, Ruling Alone, Is A Force Confining; And Passion, Unattended, Is A Flame That Burns To Its Own Destruction.

Hallow The Body As A Temple To Comeliness And Sanctify The Heart As A Sacrifice To Love; Love Recompenses The Adorers.

And Let The Winds Of The Heavens Dance Between You.