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The Golden Legend: III. A Street In Strasburg

Night.
PRINCE HENRY _wandering alone, wrapped in a cloak._

_Prince Henry._ Still is the night. The sound of feet
Has died away from the empty street,
And like an artisan, bending down
His head on his anvil, the dark town
Sleeps, with a slumber deep and sweet.
Sleepless and restless, I alone,
In the dusk and damp of these wails of stone,
Wander and weep in my remorse!

_Crier of the dead (ringing a bell)._ Wake! wake!
All ye that sleep!
Pray for the Dead!
Pray for the Dead!

_Prince Henry._ Hark! with what accents loud and hoarse
This warder on the walls of death
Sends forth the challenge of his breath!

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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From Faust - III. Chorus Of Angels

CHRIST is arisen!

Mortal, all hail!
Thou, of Earth's prison

Dreary and frail,
Bursting the veil,

Proudly hast risen!

CHORUS OF WOMEN.

Rich spices and myrrh,

To embalm Him we brought;
His corpse to inter

His true followers sought.
In pure cerements shrin'd,

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poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Freedom at Heart Corner

Freedom at Heart Corner

The word freedom was asleep at heart corner
Freedom less- house less peoples have no honor
Whipping at each steps-pain on eye, chest and every where
Don’t obey-Shall not, the rebel people wake and utter.

Freedom less- house less peoples have no honor
The bullet injured our heart while talking
Don’t obey-shall not, the rebel people wake and utter
Embracing sun seed arisen from sleeping.

The bullet injured our heart while talking
Blood sheds on roads- silent sound wake up rapidly
Embracing sun seed arisen from sleeping.
Fire on eye and heart outbursts swiftly

Blood sheds on roads- silent sound wake up rapidly
Clenched hand rise shouting get up mass people are
Fire on eye and heart outbursts swiftly

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poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Ut

[Dedicated to Allan Bennett]

I

Hail to the golden One
Seen in the midmost Sun !
Hail to the golden beard and golden lips,
His whole lige golden to the finger-tips !
Hail to the golden hair in golden showers
Hiding the eyes like blue blue lotus-flowers !
His name is Ut, for He
Hath risen above all things that be.

II

Ardent and white, the Lord
Whirls forth a strident sword.
Its blade is broader than the great World-Ash ;
Its edge is keener than the lightning flash.

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poem by Aleister Crowley
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Thomas Campbell

As musings on Banks of Canadian Thames doth not necessarily consist of
meditations in verse, but the monotony of the cogitations may be relieved by a
soliloquy in prose, and as Campbell manifested a deep interest in American subjects,
we will give the following anecdote related by that genial American Author Washington
Irvine, to Sir Walter Scott. Irvine, while in Britian, visited Campbell, but found him absent
and he expressed a regret to Campbells wife that her husband did not write more. She said
that he was timid and he felt Byron and Scott o'ershadow him with their great poems. Sir
Walter replied, ' I myself produce pebbles, Scottish pebbles, but Campbell is the creator of
Diamonds of the first water.' Byron also expressed himself in a similar strain as follows :-

'Arise, O Campbell, give thy talents scope ;
Who dares aspire if thou has ceased to hope '

Campbell wrote thus of America in the beginning of the century, and by comparing the facts
as he describes them it shows the wonderous strides which the United States, especially,
have taken on the Banks of Lake Erie, as Lake Ontario seems to be favorite location for
Canadian cities.

On Erie's banks were tigers steal along,
And the dread Indian chaunts his dismal song.

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poem by James McIntyre
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The Golden Legend: IV. The Road To Hirschau

PRINCE HENRY _and_ ELSIE, _with their attendants, on
horseback._

_Elsie._ Onward and onward the highway runs
to the distant city, impatiently bearing
Tidings of human joy and disaster, of love and of
hate, of doing and daring!

_Prince Henry._ This life of ours is a wild aeolian
harp of many a joyous strain,
But under them all there runs a loud perpetual wail,
as of souls in pain.

_Elsie._ Faith alone can interpret life, and the heart
that aches and bleeds with the stigma
Of pain, alone bears the likeness of Christ, and can
comprehend its dark enigma.

_Prince Henry._ Man is selfish, and seeketh pleasure
with little care of what may betide;

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Door Of Humility

ENGLAND
We lead the blind by voice and hand,
And not by light they cannot see;
We are not framed to understand
The How and Why of such as He;

But natured only to rejoice
At every sound or sign of hope,
And, guided by the still small voice,
In patience through the darkness grope;

Until our finer sense expands,
And we exchange for holier sight
The earthly help of voice and hands,
And in His light behold the Light.

I

Let there be Light! The self-same Power
That out of formless dark and void

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poem by Alfred Austin
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Strong and convincing art has never arisen from theories.

quote by Mary Wigman
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Society has arisen out of the works of peace; the essence of society is peacemaking.

quote by Ludwig von Mises
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Questions have also arisen about AIDS being transmitted to hemophiliacs via blood transfusions.

quote by Serge Lang
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