212
My evening came among the alien trees and spoke in a language
which my morning stars did not know.

213
Night's darkness is a bag that bursts with the gold of the dawn.

214
Our desire lends the colours of the rainbow to the mere mists and
vapours of life.

215
God waits to win back his own flowers as gifts from man's hands.

216
My sad thoughts tease me asking me their own names.

217
The service of the fruit is precious, the service of the flower
is sweet, but let my service be the service of the leaves in its
shade of humble devotion.

218
My heart has spread its sails to the idle winds for the shadowy
island of Anywhere.

219
Men are cruel, but Man is kind.