In the stillest hour of the night,
First Self: Here, in this madman,
Second Self: Yours is a better lo
Third Self: And what of me, the l
Fourth Self: I, amongst you all,

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which y
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into
Is not the cup that holds your win

It is when your spirit goes wander
That you, alone and unguarded, com
And for that wrong committed must
Like the ocean is your god—self;
It remains for ever undefiled.

No man can reveal to you aught but
The teacher who walks in the shado
If he is indeed wise he does not b
The astronomer may speak to you of
The musician may sing to you of th

As night fell and the light glitte
The magnificent carriages drew int
At midnight the finest and most pa
At eventide, a man attired in the

Man and I are sweethearts
He craves me and I long for him,
But alas! Between us has appeared
A rival who brings us misery.
She is cruel and demanding,

Your hearts know in silence the se
But your ears thirst for the sound
You would know in words that which
You would touch with your fingers
And it is well you should.

Where shall you seek beauty, and h
And how shall you speak of her exc
The aggrieved and the injured say,
Like a young mother half—shy of he
And the passionate say, “Nay, bea

He is a link between this and the
He is
A pure spring from which all thirs
He is a tree watered by the River
Fruit which the hungry heart crave

You pray in your distress and in y
For what is prayer but the expansi
And if it is for your comfort to p
And if you cannot but weep when yo
When you pray you rise to meet in