We Were Like Confirmed Opium-eaters: In Our

Ah! If Man Would But See That Hope Is From Within And Not From Without - That He Himself Must Work Out His Own Salvation.

Strange Are The Pictures Of The Future That Mankind Can Thus Draw With This Brush Of Faith And These Many-coloured Pigments Of The Imagination! Strange, Too, That No One Of Them Tallies With Another!

Everything Has An End, If Only You Live Long Enough To See It.

Think Then What It Is To Live On Here Eternally And Yet Be Human; Toage In Soul And See Our Beloved Die And Pass To Lands Whither We Maynot Hope To Follow; To Wait While Drop By Drop The Curse Of The Longcenturies Falls Upon Our Imperishable Being, Like Water Slow Drippingon A Diamond That It Cannot Wear, Till They Be Born Anew Forgetful Ofus, And Again Sink From Our Helpless Arms Into The Void Unknowable.

Ah! How Little Knowledge Does A Man Acquire In His Life. He Gathers It Up Like Water, But Like Water It Runs Between His Fingers, And Yet, If His Hands Be But Wet As Though With Dew, Behold A Generation Of Fools Call Out, 'see, He Is A Wise Man!' Is It Not So?