The More A Thing Is Perfect, The

As Phantoms Frighten Beasts When Shadows Fall.

Behold A God More Powerful Than I Who Comes To Rule Over Me.

There Sighs, Lamentations And Loud Wailings Resounded Through The Starless Air, So That At First It Made Me Weep; Strange Tongues, Horrible Language, Words Of Pain, Tones Of Anger, Voices Loud And Hoarse, And With These The Sound Of Hands, Made A Tumult Which Is Whirling Through That Air Forever Dark, And Sand Eddies In A Whirlwind.

In His Will, Our Peace.

The Loser, When A Game Of Dice Is Done, Remains Behind Reviewing Every Roll Sadly, And Sadly Wiser, And Alone.