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QUICKSAND years that whirl me I know not whither, Your schemes, politics, fail--lines give way--substances mock and elude me; Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-possess'd Soul, eludes not; One's-self must never give way--that is the final substance--that out of all is sure; Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life--what at last finally remains? When shows break up, what but One's-Self is sure? Unsatisfied? Search for more:Other Cool Sites:Hot Arts & Stage NewsLyrics Catalogue Sound Tracks Guide Guide to Serials and Shows English Subtitles For DivX Movies Hundreds of Cooking Recipes Over 5000 Cocktails Recipes Cool Online Encyclopedia Cellulars Descriptions and Reviews Algorithms Dictionary Funny Jokes and Anecdotes. Usenet Newsgroups Reader |